And When Thy Heart Began To Beat

by Zenamydog

For six months Dean has tried to live a 'normal' life, but when he starts receiving cryptic messages from kids he encounters. He knows these messages are pieces to a puzzle that will bring his brother back to him. Warnings: Long, plotty and WINCEST!

Title: And When Thy Heart Began To Beat. (Complete)
Author: zenamydog
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean, Lucifer, Michael, Adam, Lisa, Ben, Bobby.
Warnings: Spoilers for season 5. Rape. Torture. The usual stuff.
Beta: jdsampson and winchesterxgirl
Word Count: 22,427.
Disclaimer: Kripke is god and he owns Sam and Dean.
Summary: For six months Dean has tried to live a 'normal' life, a life he was never really destined to live. This is never more evident than when he starts receiving cryptic messages from the kids he encounters. Could these messages be the pieces to a puzzle that will bring his brother back?

AN: Okay, well, this is the plottyist plot I've ever plotted and it totally did my head in. LOL It's dedicated to Cyn, who kept me motivated and provided bunny's when my muses went on holidays. Also massive hugs to crinklysolution who has agreed to podfic it for me.

"So what the fuck do we do now?" Michael said as he paced the small room. Room? No… It was a cell. A beautiful one, but a cell nonetheless. Lucifer had lived here for centuries and it looked, well, kind of homey. If there was such a thing in the bowels of hell.

Lucifer grinned. More of a smirk, really. "Beats me. Have a heart to heart and catch up for a few thousand years?"

"This can't be happening. This isn't the way it's supposed to go down."

"Oh, really?" Lucifer laughed and laid back on the lounge chair he'd conjured up. "I think it's exactly the way it was supposed to go down."

Michael turned fierce eyes on him. "No… No, I don't believe that. Dad said-,"

"Oh for crying out loud, Michael, stop your whining." Lucifer sat up. "Don't you get it? There is nothing random about this. Dad always knew that the Winchesters would win. We were just too arrogant and stupid to see it."

Michael seemed to consider that statement for a moment and furrowed his brow. "But, why? Why would he do that? I've been a good son. I followed his orders to the letter. Why? Why would he do this to me?"

"Michael, Michael, Michael." Lucifer stood and walked to his brother. "Why does Dad do anything?" He looked sideways and saw his reflection off a shiny wall made of marble. Only it wasn't his reflection. "What are you looking at?" he said angrily.

Sam just smiled. The kind of smile that was happy and condescending at the same time.

Lucifer paced to the wall and stared straight into it.

"I won," Sam said. "I got to beat the devil. I got to beat you."

Lucifer smirked and twisted his fingers into a circular motion and watched as Sam's face contorted and furrowed in pain. "I wouldn't be so smug if I were you. You're playing in my sandpit now."

Sam doubled over on himself.

"What are you doing?" Michael asked.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Lucifer turned to Michael. "You can't see him, can you?" With that, he muttered a few words of Latin and Michaels face changed when he too could see Sam in the marble.

"If you torture your vessel, it will eventually affect you." Michael looked confused.

Lucifer nodded. "True." He closed his eyes and then there was a piercing light and all of a sudden Sam was on the floor beside them, convulsing in agony.

Lucifer grinned and looked over at Michael. "Let the party begin."

Dean sat at the kitchen table and watched as Lisa made Ben's lunch for school. It had been almost a month since Sam and Adam had hurled headlong into the pit and he had ended up here at Lisa's house. She had taken him to her bed that night and soothed his mind with her body. It was tragic really. How sex and booze was his only refuge now.

Sam had wanted, begged him to go and have that apple pie life and being that it was his brother's last wish, he'd done it. Except now, he was checking the clock, waiting for Lisa to get in the car and take Ben to school. It was almost 8:30am and he needed his first sip of mind numbing alcohol.

"Okay, we're off now," Lisa smiled down at him as she placed the carefully packed lunch into Ben's backpack. "I'm working to seven and Mrs. Tanner will pick Ben up, so you don't have to worry about anything. There's leftovers in the freezer and if you-,"

"Lisa," Dean stopped her speaking by standing. "I'll be fine." He moved closer and kissed her softly. "I'll see you tonight."

She nodded and he watched her walk out of the kitchen and vaguely heard her call Ben's name, but didn't move until he heard the back door close and the sound of her car starting up. He walked into the living room and grabbed his jacket. He pulled the flask out of the pocket and took a long swig, relishing the burn of his throat as the liquid went down. He turned the television on and sighed as he flicked through the channels. He had no idea how long he could keep this up.

/b

"You're sick," Michael said to Lucifer after he'd pealed back all of Sam's skin, one piece at a time. Made him whole and started to do it again.

"Oh what's a matter, Brother? Since when did you get so squeamish."

"We've been here for almost a year, Lucifer. Don't you ever get tired of this sort of thing?"

Lucifer frowned and shook his head. "Nope." He turned to Michael. "Hey, I got an idea. Why don't you let Adam out of you and we could watch them peel each other's skin back."

Sam moaned for the first time in days.

0000000000

Michael shook his head in disgust. "Monster." He rose from the lush chair he'd been sitting on and opened the door to the cell. He walked through it and down a long corridor towards dark dingy cells he'd learned were the torture chambers for all the lost souls who'd ended up here. The screams were deafening and the smell of blood and bile assaulted his nose. When are you coming, Father? he prayed inside his head. When are you going to release me from this torment? I did what you asked of me. I did and… He hung his head when he looked across at small boy hanging by his wrists. He wasn't more than twelve years old and it was the first time Michael could ever remember doubting his father's wisdom.

The demon who was hammering nails into the boy's body took a step back and bowed his head when Michael approached. "What is this boy's sin?"

"Wha… Umm…." The demon fumbled over his words. "He was a member of a gang that raped and killed a seven year old girl. He got shot by the girl's brother."

"I see." Michael closed his eyes and let out a slow breath.

"He's over in cell fourteen."

Michael's eyes sprung open. "What? Who?"

"The girl's brother. Death by lethal injection. It took seven years, but we finally got him." The demon smiled. "Murder, for whatever reason, is still a sin." He looked pleased. "He's all yours if you want him."

Michael flung his hand and the demon went flying into the wall. Wrong… wrong… this is so wrong. He turned on his heal and walked towards Lucifer's playground. He was relieved when his brother was nowhere in sight.

"Sam?" Michael shook at Sam's unconscious form. He touched Sam's forehead and then Sam's eyes sprung open.

"Adam?" Sam slurred out, before blinking a few times and sitting up. "Michael… What are you doing?"

Michael helped Sam to his feet and sat him on the couch. "I need you to listen to me."

Sam was still dazed. His body was whole again, but that was only temporary.

"We're gonna bust out of here," Michael said and looked him straight in the eyes. "Lucifer will be back soon and we haven't got much time."

"What?" Sam shook his head in an effort to clear his thoughts. "There's no-,"

"Just shut up and listen. You can't physically leave, yet, but you can still dream."

"What?"

"You'll see," Michael said and touched Sam's forehead again.

Two months into this charade and Dean was a shadow of his former self. He could hardly eat and wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was drinking from dusk to dawn and dawn to dusk.

Lisa had only asked that he be respectful of Ben and it was the very least he could do. She had been so very good to him and hadn't asked any questions, except for that one on the first night he arrived. "Sam's gone, isn't he?" Dean had nodded, unable to even choke out the word, yeah, and he let the tears come in full force as he slid inside her and fucked her into the mattress.

She didn't deserve this, he knew that and it only added to the guilt that he had to fight against every day. The truth be known. Every god-damned day was just one endless fight to find a reason to take one more breath. He'd never actually admitted it, not even to himself, but there was a small part of his brain that acknowledged, if he kept the blackness away with the drink, eventually he would die anyway. At least then, he technically wouldn't be breaking his word to Sam.

It was only noon when Dean filled his flask for the fourth time. The quiet, numbing haze he wanted was getting harder to achieve. "Damn it, Sammy," he muttered to himself. "I wish you were here." Out of reflex he reached up towards his neck and felt a hot tear prickle at his eye. The amulet wasn't there. He'd left it in a trash can, somewhere in… His mind grappled. He couldn't even remember the name of the city they were in, but that was probably a good thing, because right now all he wanted to do was go back and tear the motel to pieces to find the damned thing.

"Dean?"

Dean startled and looked around. "Ben… What are you doing home?"

"The man said I had to come and give this to you."

Dean felt all the blood run from his face as something protective kicked in. He was suddenly sober, with no hint of haze. "What guy?" He stood and looked down at the boy.

Ben shrugged and held out his hand. "He said this belonged to you."

Dean felt a wave of nausea when Ben handed him his amulet. "Where… where did you get this?"

"I told you. The man said I had to come give it to you right now."

"What man?" Dean grabbed Ben by the shoulders and ducked his head to look straight into the boy's eyes.

"Oww," Ben protested at Dean's grip. "I… I don't know. He… looked…" Fear started to cross Ben's face.

"Looked, what?" Dean couldn't help himself. He was starting to shake Ben. "You have to remember. Was it Sam? Was it my brother?"

"I don't know." Ben was starting to tremble. "He was tall. That's all I can-,"

"Dean!" Lisa's voice was panicked. "What the hell are you doing?" She moved forward from the doorway and gathered Ben into her arms. She looked at him, a mixture of fear and betrayal in her eyes.

"Mom," Ben said as he stared up at her.

"The school called me," she explained. "They said one of the teachers saw you leaving. I thought maybe you were sick."

Ben shook his head. "No, I…" Ben looked at Dean as if asking for permission to go on.

"It doesn't matter," Lisa said soothingly. "Just…" She kept her gaze leveled at Dean. "Just go to your room and I'll be up in a little while."

Ben nodded and started to leave and Lisa took a step to be in between her son and Dean, when it looked like he was going to try and stop the boy.

"Lisa, listen to me," Dean started.

"No," Lisa replied. "You listen to me. I heard what you said. I heard…" she trailed off. "I'm sorry you miss Sam so much. I'm sorry that you can't let go. I'm sorry that you have to drink yourself into a stupor every day, in order to cope, but… Not when it affects my son." She took in a deep breath. "Sam's dead, Dean and nothings gonna change that."

"No," Dean half smiled. "Maybe… He brought Castiel back. Maybe… Why else would he…"

Lisa furrowed her brow. "I don't know who Castiel is and I don't want to know, Dean, but-,"

"You don't understand. Someone gave my amulet to Ben. Told him to give it back to me."

"What amulet?"

Dean held out his hand and slowly opened his fingers. "What the…?" his voice was barely above a whisper.

Lisa shook her head. "You need help, Dean," she said as they both stared at Dean's empty palm.

#############

Dean sat and stared at his hand for over an hour. He'd felt it. He had it in his hand. He knows he did. Ben had come home early and had given it to him. Hadn't he?

Dean finally shook his head and stood. Maybe he'd imagined the whole thing. Maybe it really was just the alcohol. He needed to talk to Ben. He needed confirmation that it all really did happen.

He climbed the stairs, only to find Lisa coming out from Ben's room. "Lis…"

Her face was stony, devoid of her usual smile.

"I need to talk to Ben."

"No."

"Lisa…"

"No, Dean." Lisa's voice trembled and she looked like she was going to cry. "He doesn't remember."

Dean frowned. "What?"

"I asked him about coming home early. I asked him about the man and the amulet. He doesn't remember."

"It was only a couple of hours ago. How could he… It doesn't make sense." Dean could hear the pitch rise in his voice, but he was powerless to stop it. "He came home. He had to have a reason for-"

"Nothing makes sense in your world, Dean!" Her tone matched his. "And yeah, he did come home, but he doesn't even know why. I…" Tears were welling in her eyes. "I don't know what's going on, but… Dean this isn't going to work."

"What?"

"I know…" She sobbed in a breath. "I know this is somehow mixed up with what you do… did… but… now it's affecting Ben and I… I can't. I can't have you around if it's… Dean, please, you have to understand."

Dean blinked and stared down at the ground. He understood alright. "You want me to leave?"

"No," she said without a beat. "It's the last thing I want. I love you, Dean. I know I've never actually said it, but I do."

Dean lifted his eyes to meet hers.

"It's just…" She swallowed hard. "This kind of thing seems to just follow you and… I love my son, more."

"Ahh…" Sam woke started and breathing like he'd just ran a twenty mile marathon. He was in Lucifer's person torture chamber and he was strapped to the rack.

"Oh, well, how nice of you to wake up and good timing, too," Lucifer said. "I see my brother gave you your body back." He laughed. "Guess he doesn't get that he's doing you no favors."

Sam needed to clear his head. Needed to focus and remember. He had just been outside, or upside, or wherever the fuck he was. How could he be back here? He was just up there. How could he…?

"You look a little confused, Sammy? What's the problem?" Lucifer taunted. "Can't you remember where you are? Maybe you need a little help on that front."

Sam suddenly realized he was naked and a split second later he was screaming as red hot iron needle was being threaded through one of his eyelids and sown shut.

"Oh, come on, Sammy. You can do better than that. Your brother's screams were twice as loud and you're making me feel a little in adequate."

Sam's eye darted to his and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Oh I've seen that look before, Sammy. That prissy emo look of determination." Lucifer grinned and Sam stared at him through his one open eye. "Unfortunately, that determination won't help any, when-,"

"Oh I don't know," Sam did his best to grin. "It got you back in the cage, didn't it?"

Lucifer lost his smug smile and moved to stand directly in from of him and put his hand around Sam's throat. He squeezed and Sam could feel the edges of his brain starting to whiteout.

"You think you're so smart." Lucifer's voice had dropped two octaves. "But let's see just how smug you are when your bladder bursts from the inside out." He reached down and grabbed Sam by the dick and started to push the needle through it.

Sam was grateful when he blacked out.

It had been over two weeks since the incident with Ben and Dean had done his best to stay in the background. Lisa had returned to his bed a few nights later and told him she wanted him to stay. He'd asked her about Ben and she'd told him it was most likely all just one big coincidence. Ben had come down with the flu the next day and she was convinced that was why he had come home. She'd asked him to stop the drinking and he had said he would try.

He had… tried that is, but he was out picking up tomatoes for Lisa's special Lasagna and the liquor store seemed to be beckoning him. He'd have to cross the busy road and he fought an internal battle with all of the reasons why he should stay on that side of the street.

"Sammy!" Dean heard the woman's frantic scream, before he saw the little boy half way across the road. He didn't hesitate, reflex kicking in and it was a wonder no cars had hit him as he crossed on his way to pick up the youngster.

As it turned out, he lifted the four-year-old, pulling him back and up, just before a truck turned a corner. There was no doubt it wouldn't have stopped in time.

"Oh my god," the woman said as he took Sammy out of Dean's arms. "Thank you," she sobbed. "I looked away for one second and…" She stared at Dean. "I don't know how to thank you. I…"

Dean felt the familiar drop of adrenalin and he took in a deep breath. "No problem." He smiled and reached out to ruffle Sammy's hair. "You need to stay next to your mom, Tiger." It was clear the boy had only a vague idea that he'd done something wrong as he nuzzled into his mother's shoulder.

"Please, umm…" the woman stumbled."I'm Susan." She put Sammy down on the ground and held out her hand for Dean to shake. "I'm so grateful."

"Dean." He took her hand and smiled again. "Don't mention it." He squatted down so he could be at eye level with the boy, who looked a little frightened and clung to Susan's hip.

"You know, Sammy…" Dean swallowed hard. "That's a nice name. I've got… had a little brother with that name. He was always running off too."

The boy looked confused as he stared into Dean's eyes. "Is that why you threw his amulet away?"

Dean's eyes widened."What?" He grabbed the boy by the arm and the boy squealed. "What did you say?"

"Hey," Susan said, alarmed, pulling Sammy from his grip. "He was only being nice… Jesus."

It was Dean who looked confused now and he stood and looked at Susan. "He said… How does he know about the amulet?"

Susan shook her head slightly. "What amulet?" She frowned. "He asked how old your brother was?"

Dean stared after Susan and Sammy as they disappeared into the crowd a moment later. It seemed that fate was against him as he turned and walked straight into the liquor store. No wide and busy street a physical barrier. "Two bottles of tequila, please."

When Sam woke, he was blind. Both eyes had been sown shut and he felt like his stomach was about to explode. He heard a gurgling sound inside of himself and then he had no control. He felt something hot and foul explode and drip down the back of his legs. It assaulted his sense of smell and he knew exactly what it was. He felt another gurgle and then a second explosion of feces dripped out and smeared up his back. "Oh, God," he tried to say, but with his throat red raw, no sound came out.

"Shhh… Don't struggle," a woman's voice said and then Sam felt someone releasing his hands from the binds.

He was dazed and disoriented, but the voice was unmistakable. "Ru… Ruby?"

"Shhh," she said again. "Don't talk. Let me get you out of here. We can talk later."

"No…" He was hyperventilating. "We… we killed you."

He felt her release his legs from the shackles and his feet touched the ground, but he had no strength in his legs so they buckled under him and then his hands slipped out on the diarrhea and he was lying on his stomach. Face deep in his own bodily fluids. There was a flash of light and then he was suddenly in a room. More like a cave really, but he was clean and clothed and more importantly, he could see. His eyes scanned quickly and his breath hitched as he took in his surroundings and the demon before him. "You're dead. We killed you."

"Yeah, well…" She smiled bitterly. "I think your god has a sense of humor. Anyhow," she dismissed. "Do you like it?" She gestured with her hand at the small room and it's comfortable furniture. "My reward. I get to have my own little niche in hell for getting you to break the last ceil."

Sam's face changed into a scowl and he lunged forward, but he still couldn't take his own weight and he fell quickly to his knees. "You bitch. You fucking bitch," he screamed.

"Yeah." She grinned down at him. "But you got to have the last laugh, so I guess we're even."

"Why am I here? What do you want?"

"Maybe I'm just sentimental."

"What do you want, Ruby?" Sam's voice was just above a whisper.

"Lucifer's grown bored with you. He's given you to me to… take care of."

The scowl on Sam's face didn't alter, but it was now accompanied by a bitter taste in his mouth. "Oh, and I bet you're just loving that."

Ruby smiled. "Yeah, well, it did come with a few strings."

"What kind of strings." Sam's gut twisted.

"I have to keep up the torture. Not allowed to go soft on you because we use to…" She trailed off and for a second, Sam thought he could see a glimmer of something in her eyes. Regret maybe?

"Give it your best shot," Sam spat out. "What… you gonna break a few bones, pull out my intestines with tweezers? Do your worst," he challenged. He was vaguely aware that time was different down here. He knew that Dean's four months had been forty years and he wondered exactly how long he'd really been down there. "There's nothing you can do that hasn't been done before."

"I can be quite imaginative when the mood takes me." Ruby glared, placing a hand on her hip. "But what I have in mind is something that I know will please Lucifer."

"Oh, yeah? How so?"

"It will break you."

"Like I said." Sam forced his muscles to work and he stood up shakily. "Do your worst. I won't pick up the knife. I won't become one of you."

Ruby grinned. A smug, knowing look crossed her face. "Dean took forty years. I've made a bet with the boss that I can do it in thirty."

"Thirty or three hundred. I'll never be what you are."

"We'll see," Ruby said and tilted her head to one side. "You forget… I know how strong and stubborn you can be, but…" She placed her pointer finger to her lip and tapped. "I also know where your weakness lies."

/b

"Dean?" Lisa turned the light on and looked over at him. "Why are you sitting here in the dark?" She moved around the coffee table to stand in front of him and looked down at the two empty bottles of tequila. "Oh, god, Dean. I thought we were past this. You said you would try."

"I was trying," Dean slurred out the words and lifted the glass he had in his hand to his lips.

Lisa sat down on the couch beside him and placed a gentle hand on his knee. "Did something happen?"

Dean just hated the fact that she was concerned, so fucking calm. He didn't deserve it. She was too good to… for him and he knew it. She should have been screaming and yelling and telling him to get the fuck out, but she wasn't and that made him feel ten times worse. "Yeah, something happened."

"What?"

Dean shook his head a little and just looked down at his hands. "Doesn't matter. Nothing matters."

Lisa sat up a little straighter and frowned. "I see."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. "I didn't mean that." He could tell from her tone that she was offended. "You and Ben, you're family." He looked at her and hoped that she would understand. "It's just…"

"Sam was your real family."

Tears welled in his eyes. He couldn't help it. He wondered how the hell he wasn't dead from dehydration, with the bucket loads he'd already cried. "I just… Things keep reminding me and…"

"And what, Dean?"

He hadn't told the whole sordid story to Lisa. He could at least do that. She knew more than any other woman he'd ever been with. It was clear from the nightmares she'd witnessed that she knew Sam was in hell, but he wanted her to feel safe and not have to deal with his shit and his inability to live without his brother. Survive, yes, but live? It was only his promise to Sam that kept him there, kept him alive, but he didn't want her to know that.

"And what," she repeated, jolting him out of his daze.

"I miss him is all." He leaned into her chest and let himself sob. It was a trick of sorts. He knew she would hold and comfort him. Breathe out, shhh and it's okay. He knew it would distract her enough, not to ask about the two bottles of tequila. After all, what could he say? "Yeah I was reminded about how I tore out Sammy's heart by throwing away the one thing he gave me that ever meant anything to me, by some little kid, whose life I saved, but I've never seen before and..." He was clearly going crazy. It was the only explanation. He tried to take comfort as she pulled him tighter into her soft breasts.

Sam was on a soft bed with down pillows and warm sheets. His brother was nestled between his legs with his mouth kissing up the hard shaft of his dick and Sam didn't want to look away.

"Relax, Sammy. Let me do this for you." Dean looked up at him and smiled.

"Dean, oh god," Sam said as he looked down at his brother. "Yeah, yeah… okay, it's just… I dreamt I was in hell. I dreamt I…"

"Shh… don't talk, just enjoy. I wanna see. I wanna watch you come." Dean went back to licking the underside of his balls.

"I thought I'd never see you again. I thought… ahh," Sam stopped talking when Dean took him fully into his mouth. A few moments later he blew into Dean's mouth and Dean didn't spill a drop.

Sam moved from the bed. He was sated and wanted nothing more than to go off into post orgasmic sleep, but Dean was still hard and he needed to do something about that. He knelt down on the floor between Dean's legs. He looked into his brother's eyes and there was so much going on there that he was sure he would drown. Pain, guilt, lust, but overriding all of that, was the strongest drive of all… love.

Sam leaned in and engulfed Dean without hesitation. He wasn't sure how they had gone back to this. They hadn't done it since he was sixteen, but here they were and it seemed as natural as breathing.

"Sammy." Dean tilted his head back and breathed in deeply. "Yeah, Sammy… Just like that."

Dean woke with a start. He didn't remember coming to bed and he certainly didn't remember getting undressed and falling asleep. He half sat up and looked down at his saliva wet pillow. It only took a half second to realize why it was wet. He was half, no make that fully, hard and the reason for that was his dream. He'd been dreaming about Sammy. About what they use to do as teenagers, pre Stanford and how he could get Sam to squirm and curse and beg, with just a flicker of his tongue. They'd never resumed that kind of relationship when Sam returned, but he knew it was still, right up until Sam hurled himself into the pit, the white elephant in the room between them.

Dean sat up fully and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He glanced at the clock and it was 9:00am. He must have slept all night long. It was Tuesday and Lisa would be dropping Ben at school and then heading off to work. He was there alone.

He looked down at his naked form and at his hard red, throbbing dick. He took hold and started to jack slowly. He closed his eyes and imagined his brother kneeling before him. "Sammy," he whispered out. "Yeah, Sammy… Just like that."

Sam closed his eyes and concentrated. He hadn't done this for so long, but it was important to him. He wanted, no, needed to show Dean how much he meant to him. Slowly he jacked with his left hand as his right hand teased Dean's entrance. His mouth was full of Dean and Dean's seated position on the bed didn't exactly make for easy access. He slid his mouth off of his brother and opened his eyes. He needed Dean to lay back down.

He felt something hard on his shoulder and then he was being shaken. He woke, eyes springing open and he was sitting on the same couch he'd been on for hours, or… days, maybe even years.

"So what were you dreaming about, Sammy?" Ruby's smug look tilted one side of her mouth upward. "From the way you were moaning, it must have been something good."

Sam felt the heat of a flush as it reached his cheeks. A dream… He'd been dreaming. Oh god… No… He felt the tears well in his eyes, but refused to let them spill. He was still in hell.

Dean's hand shook as he popped AC/DC's Back in Black into the tape deck as the Impala sped down the highway. It wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't have been a coincidence. Third time was the charm. Sam was trying to contact him. He was sure of it.

It had just been a picnic in the park. A chance to play touch football with Ben and do some normal 'family' things. He'd had a low grade feeling of dread when Lisa had asked him, but then Ben had pleaded, so much like Sammy used to, so what could he do? He was a sucker for big brown eyes.

He'd laughed and even enjoyed himself a little as he watched and encouraged Ben to approach the young blond girl playing on the swing. That's my boy, he'd thought to himself when she'd smiled and giggled at Ben's 10-year-old attempts at being charming.

It wasn't until Ben had spent some time with her and had gotten brave enough to bring her over and introduce her to him and Lisa, that things had gone haywire. One minute she was telling him that her Daddy was a fireman and the next thing she said gripped his heart and made bile rise up in his throat. "Sammy needs you to find it. He needs you to get it back. It's important."

Of course, according to Lisa and Ben, she had said nothing of the sort, but that night it seemed to all just click into place for him. He cursed himself for not figuring it out earlier as he packed quietly and left a long and sad letter of apology on the kitchen table.

Now, here he was, racing toward the motel room, where he'd dropped the amulet into the trash can like it really was a piece of junk. It still could be there, couldn't it? Not there, in the trash can of course, but maybe in the motel office? In the lost property or something? It had been four months, but still… This was a sign and it was from Sam. It had to be. So whatever it took, he would find it. He would.

When Sam next opened his eyes, Michael was standing in front of him.

"You're doing good, Sam. You're much stronger than I gave you credit for."

Sam didn't respond. Didn't ask, what the fuck he meant by that, just took in a calming breath. He was still bloody and aching from the torture Ruby had inflicted, but he managed to say, "No," when Michael reached forward. "Don't touch me. Don't heal me."

Michael tilted his head to one side and looked at him curiously. It reminded Sam of Castiel and he couldn't help but grin. He was in agony, but he still grinned. "It's worse when the nerve ending are still intact," he explained. "At least… at least now the body goes into some sort of shock and the adrenaline helps."

Michael raised an eyebrow and nodded. "Have you been dreaming?" he asked out of the blue.

Sam frowned. Random much? The last dream he remembered was being sucked off by his brother and even though he didn't have much skin left on his face, he could still feel a hint of heat as the blush rose to his cheeks. "Why… why do you ask?"

"You must keep dreaming, Sam. It's the only way."

"The only way to what?"

Michael looked away and sighed. "What was your last dream about?"

"None of your business," Sam spat out defensively.

"A little girl on a swing?"

"What?" Sam had no idea what he was talking about. "What girl on a swing?"

With that, Michael smiled. "Good," he said. "What I implant, you can't remember. That's good."

"What's good?" Sam was suddenly alarmed. "And what do you mean implant?"

"They can dig inside of your brain, Sam. If they get wind of what you are doing, then they may be able to block it."

"Block what?" Sam's breath was speeding up. "What am I doing?"

"Dreaming."

"I don't understand."

Michael stared at him and a look of compassion crossed his face. "I'm sorry that healing you hurts, Sam." He reached out and touched Sam's head. "But you will need all your strength and all your brain cells for this next message."

Dean scrubbed his hand though his mussed hair as he sat down on the motel bed. The room was larger, no… not larger, it only looked that way, because there was only one bed instead of two. That thought, tore at Dean's insides. It had been a long shot and he knew that, but he would have thought someone would have remembered. Someone would have known about the strange looking necklace, left in room twelve, a few months earlier.

Shit, who was he kidding? It was probably just thrown into the dumpster with all the other trash. Or maybe one of the maids had picked it up and took it home or… or… or… There were a hundred and one reasons why the clerk behind the motel office desk had just looked at him stupid. "No, sir, only thing in our lost property section is two toothbrushes, a black leather coat and one blue scarf."

He'd booked a room to regroup. It had taken nine full hours of driving to reach this motel and he was beat. Exhausted would be closer to the truth. Sure, he hadn't done a long haul like this since he'd settled down with Lisa and Ben, but he was totally surprised at how tired he was. He needed time to think and to work out how he would go about finding his amulet. The motel had been a starting point, but now…

He took his shoes off and laid down on the bed. He didn't worry about undressing, just spread out on top of the threadbare quilt. Unconsciously he turned towards the middle of the room and as if it was sense memory or something, he still got a shock to see no other bed and no Sammy. He buried his head into the pillow and let himself shed a few tears, but not too many. There was no time for that. In fact, he felt less sad, less idle and with more purpose than he had in a very long time. There was something, something he really didn't want to, was too scared to, name, trying to well up inside of him. Something he knew could be the destroyer of even the strongest of men.

It was called hope.

Dean looked at the clock when he heard his cell phone ring. It was just past two in the morning and he sat up, switching on the lamp beside the bed. He looked at the display. "Lisa?"

"No, it's Ben."

"Ben… ahh, Ben it's two o'clock in the morning. Is something wrong? Does your mom know you're calling?"

"No. I had to wait until she fell asleep. It took a long time for her to fall asleep tonight."

Dean closed his eyes as the guilt washed over him.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Dean's eyes sprung open. "No, Ben, of course not. What makes you thi-,"

"Then why did you leave?" Dean heard the boy take in a shaky breath. "I tried hard not to annoy you. I thought you liked us. You were… I mean I know you're not my real dad, but… I thought… I thought you…" Ben started to sob. "Please, Dean. Mom is so upset and I… I'll try to be better, I promise. I won't ask you to take me anywhere or do things or-,"

"Ben, stop!" Dean shouted, louder and with more venom than he intended. "This has nothing to do with you or your mom. It has nothing to do with you annoying me or asking me to take you places. God…" Dean tried to even out his breathing. "I wish I was…" He second guessed himself about admitting this and hesitated. "I wish I was your dad, Ben, because… because you are exactly the kind of son any man could wish for. I'm very proud of you and I… This isn't about you, Ben. You've done nothing wrong."

"You swear?"

"On my life." Dean realized he had tears rolling down his cheeks and swiped them away with the back of his hand.

"Does that mean you're gonna come back?"

"I…" Dean was lost for words. "I don't know, Ben. Maybe, but… if I do, it may not be for a long time."

"Because you have to get over Sam, right?"

"What?"

"Mom said that you had to have some time to grieve. You had to find a way to… re-con-cile," he stumbled over the word, "Sam dying."

"That's right." Dean nodded unconsciously and gave up trying to stop the tears. "I… I just have to do this. Do you understand?"

Ben's voice was hitching. "Yeah, I… I guess." Tears bled through in every word. "I… I love you, Dean."

"Oh, kiddo, I love-,"

"It's not there," Ben interrupted. His voice was suddenly deeper and there wasn't a hint of pain in his tone. "Tania Shown took it. She found it and kept it. She's eight year old and she lives in Nebraska."

Dean's eyes widened and he nearly dropped the phone. "What? Ben… What did you just say?"

"I gotta go," Ben sobbed. "I think I hear mom. She'll kill me if she finds out I called you. Bye…"

"Ben?" Dean heard the click of the phone and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He wasn't waiting till morning to head for Nebraska.

The phone book was the first place he started, when Dean arrived in Nebraska. Shown… Shown… Shown… He flicked the pages. Surprisingly there were not that many. Around forty, so it could have been worse. He was glad Tania wasn't a Smith or a Brown.

He'd checked himself into one of the motels on the outskirts of town and paid ahead of time, incase he'd have to leave quickly. He recharged his phone with the help of Mr. Dangle's credit card and dialed the first number.

"Oh, yeah, hi, Mrs. Shown?"

"Yes."

"My name's Dean Saxon and I'm just trying to track down an old buddy of mine. We used to go to school together and I was just passing through, but he doesn't live at his old address anymore and I was trying to find him. I think he got married or something, cause the last I heard from him was that he had a little girl. Her name was Tania, I think. I was just wondering if you could help me out. If you knew… I'd really like to catch up with him and-,"

Click.

"Oh, hi, Mrs. Shown?"

"My name is…

"Oh hi, Mr. Shown, is it?"

"I'm trying to track down an old school friend. My name is…

Call seventeen he got an elderly woman, who he assumed would be another bust, by the way she went on about how she used to go to school with a boy named Dean and how she wished she had married him, instead of Frank, who was her late husband. The only good thing to come out of that marriage was her son Derek.

"He was a bit wild in his younger days and of course, he doesn't come around as much anymore with the second baby on the way, but he married Laura and I suppose she was good for him in the long run. He seemed to settle down. Got a good job now. Nice family man."

Dean frowned in concentration. "Second baby?"

"Oh yes. They're hoping it will be a boy this time. I mean we all love Tania and she's a beautiful child, but I know Derek's got his heart set on a boy this time. Most men-,"

"Ah, Mrs. Shown," Dean interrupted. "Did you say Tania?"

"Yes. She's my granddaughter."

Dean closed his eyes for a second and sighed. "Are they still at 1248 Whitehorse?"

"Why, yes. They bought it a few years ago. It was an old shack when they bought it, but my Derek's always been a bit of a handyman. He's done it up real nice. Can't say that I like the color Laura chose for-,"

"Thanks Mrs. Shown. I really appreciate it. Have a good day." He hung up the phone and ripped the page out of the phone book. It was just before three and if he was lucky, Tania would just be getting home from school when he arrived.

#######

It seemed that someone was smiling on him as he turned the corner. He could see a young girl, about eight or nine, walking down the street. He couldn't be certain, but he had a gut feeling. This was Tania.

As it turned out, he was right and he watched her open the gate. He thought about how he was going to approach it. Whether he was going to try and con the little girl, offer her candy, or even money for the necklace, but he quickly dismissed all of that. It was just that side of creepy and more like something a pedophile would do.

He sat in the Impala for a long time and contemplated his next move. He supposed he could just sneak in after dark and steal the thing, but that too, seemed somehow wrong and he wondered when exactly he'd gotten so damned moralistic.

In the end, he simply went up to the door and knocked.

A woman with long dark hair and about six months pregnant answered. "Yes?"

"Laura?... Ahh, I mean, Mrs. Shown?"

"That's right."

"Hi, ahh, my name's Dean. Dean Saxon. I… well that is I think your daughter has something that belongs to me."

"Excuse me?" Laura looked suddenly defensive. "And how do you know my name?"

"Oh, ahh, your mother-in-law told me. I was ringing all of the Showns in the phone book and I happened to call her and…" Dean felt a little out of his depth. He was being honest and it was sad that he felt so out of place doing so. "Ahh you see, umm… Were you in Johnsonville about five months ago?"

Laura frowned. "Yes, we were," she said warily. "Why?"

"You stayed at a little motel on the south side. Red Roof Inn."

Laura's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything.

"Hey, Mommy, Can I go play with Billy?" Tania walked up and stood beside her mother. "He's got a new Wii game and he said I could come try it."

Laura wrapped a protective arm around her daughter and looked back to Dean.

Dean on the other hand had his eyes firmly fixed on Tania's neck.

Laura followed Dean's gaze and her expression softened. "This?" She reached over and rolled the amulet between her thumb and pointer finger.

"Yes," Dean said flatly, without shifting his gaze. "It… it means a lot to me. My brother gave it to me and I was just wondering if… He… he died and…"

"No." Tania wrapped her hand around the necklace and stepped back. "It's mine. I found it."

"In the wastepaper basket, right?" Dean asked.

The girl nodded and clutched the amulet tighter. "Yes… but it's mine now. It's special." She looked distraught. "Besides… Finders keepers."

"Tania," Laura chastised looking sympathetic. "Mind your manners."

"No, Mommy, please. It's special. It's magic. It talks to me."

Laura rolled her eyes and looked apologetically at Dean. "I'm sorry," she said. "Tania has a very… healthy imagination."

Dean nodded and bobbed down to be at eye level with Tania. "You're right, Tania," he said. "It is magic and it is very special." Dean smiled. "You said it talks to you. What does it say?"

The side of Tania's mouth curled up into a small grin. Clearly pleased that someone believed her. "It says that I've been chosen and that I have to take care of it until…"

"Until what?"

Something crossed Tania's face that was hard to decipher and she turned a little pale. "Is… is your name Dean?"

Laura's eyes widened. "How did you know that?"

Dean grinned. "Yes… yes it is."

"Oh," Tania said and pulled the amulet over her head. "It does belong to you, then." She handed it to him without hesitation.

Dean exchanged glances with Tania's mother and then wrapped his fingers around the necklace. "Thank you," he whispered out. He didn't think he'd ever been this grateful to anyone.

"That's okay," she said brightly. "I was only looking after it until you came."

Dean swallowed hard and stood up. "Did it say anything else to you?" he asked, knowing that it sounded strange and giving Laura a sideways glance.

"ah huh," she said with a nod. "The first time."

"The first time, what?"

Tania shrugged and looked up at her mom. "Can I go over to Billy's house now?"

Laura nodded absently, clearly disturbed about what had gone on. "Sure, honey. Just be home in time for dinner."

"Okay," Tania said as she brushed passed him to open the gate. "Oh…" She turned back to look at Dean. "Bye, Dean." She waved and then tilted her head slightly.

"Fides quod incendia vado manus manus in manus manus. Sto duos. Totus has been lost huic lux lucis , tamen pervenio pro is quod pugna."

"What did you say?" Dean breathed out, alarm in his voice. He took a step forward. He wanted to run forward and grab her, but…

"She said goodbye," Laura explained with a hint of confusion on her face. "She just said goodbye."

Fides quod incendia vado manus manus in manus manus. Sto duos. Totus has been lost huic lux lucis , tamen pervenio pro is quod pugna. Fides quod incendia vado manus manus in manus manus. Sto duos. Totus has been lost huic lux lucis , tamen pervenio pro is quod pugna. Dean repeated the words in his mind. He knew enough Latin to know the words faith and fire and stanza two. Stanza was a poem wasn't it? He was in his car and racing back to the motel room. He needed to get on the laptop and translate. When he pulled into the motel lot he quickly got out of the car. He was almost running. That something he didn't want to name was bubbling up again and he couldn't hold it back this time. Hope had made it all the way to his heart and he found himself smiling. No matter what it took, he WOULD see Sam again.

Sam woke to Lucifer standing in front of him. He was dazed as he usually was after waking from a pain induced blackout.

"Reach for what?" Lucifer asked.

Sam frowned. He had no idea what Lucifer was talking about.

"Huic lux lucis , tamen pervenio pro is quod pugna." Lucifer squinted and looked at him critically. "You were saying that."

"Reach and fight what?" Sam asked.

"Exactly," Lucifer said. "Reach for it and fight."

"In Latin?" Sam was confused.

"No, in Spanish!" Lucifer snarled and raised a hand.

Sam screamed out in pain. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were repeating that… Why?" Lucifer made a fist and Sam started to cough up blood.

"I swear…" Sam pleaded between gasps of breath. "I don't know what that means."

"Oh really?" Lucifer moved in and looked Sam directly in the eyes.

He wasn't coughing blood anymore, but suddenly he felt like his eyes were going to explode and there was a white hot poker burning the back of his brain. It went on forever and Sam felt his body starting to convulse. All he could do was scream, but then it suddenly stopped.

"Huh…" Lucifer started to chuckle. "You dream about your brother's dick?" He sounded genuinely surprised. "No wonder you had it so bad for each other. Strange I never picked up on that before." He laughed again. "It might have turned out completely different if I'd known."

Sam swallowed hard. "It would have ended this way, no matter what you knew or thought you knew."

Lucifer nodded slightly. "Yeah… perhaps you're right." The side of his mouth tilted up into a smirk. "But I would have been a little more creative. Had a bit more fun."

Sam just stared and tried not to flinch when Lucifer rounded on him.

"I suppose I still could… You know… Have a little fun." Lucifer laughed and suddenly Sam was on the rack, on his stomach and naked.

Sam was grateful that Lucifer seemingly had forgotten what he was asking about the Latin. He instinctually knew it had something to do with what Michael had been talking about, but bile rose up in Sam's throat as he felt the blunt pressure to his anus. He didn't have to look to know the form Lucifer had changed into.

They had made Sam scream and whimper and they had made him beg. He knew it was stupid and he didn't quite know why, but he had taken some solace in the fact that they had never actually made him cry.

There was searing pain and white heat as he was being ripped apart, but it was when he heard Dean's voice, that the tears fell like rain.

"Hey there… You like that, Sammy?"

Bobby had engulfed him into a bear-hug the moment he walked through the door.

"God, it's good to see you, son."

Dean smiled genuinely. "Yeah," he agreed, nodding.

There was a heap of books on the kitchen table, five or six piles and at least ten deep.

Bobby moved over to them. "Stanza two. I've looked up near on every book and poem book I have and nothing makes sense. I'm lost." He looked at Dean. "Of course it would help if I knew what the hell I was looking for."

"I don't know, Bobby. I just know what she said."

"Are you sure you got it right? I mean no offence, kid, but your Latin always kind of sucked."

"Fides quod incendia vado manus manus in manus manus. Sto duos. Totus has been lost huic lux lucis , tamen pervenio pro is quod pugna." The words rolled off of his tongue like it was his native language.

Bobby scratched the back of his head. "Faith and fire go hand in hand. Stanza two. All has been lost in this light, but reach for it and fight."

"Told ya."

Bobby took in a long breath and nodded. "Okay, well…" He moved and sat down. "I guess we keep looking." He looked up at Dean, who was removing his jacket and pulling up a chair. "Did she say anything else? Anything at all that could give us a clue?"

"Nope, just what I told you. She said the amulet spoke to her. Told her to wait and give it back to me. Then she spouted those words in Latin and…" He shrugged. "Oh," he said as an afterthought. "She did say, the first time."

Bobby frowned. "Oh great, well that helped. The first time what?"

"Dunno." Dean smiled and picked up one of the books.

Bobby squinted his eyes and looked at him critically. "So ya just gonna break your promise, huh?"

The smile on Dean's face faded and his jaw hardened. "This means something, Bobby. I know it does."

Bobby raised an eyebrow and nodded slightly. "Okay then."

They both looked back down at their respective books.

Dean woke with a tattered blanket draped across him. He could hear Bobby in the kitchen as he sat up.

There were books on the table, books on the floor, the couch, the television. There didn't seem to be one square foot of free space that wasn't filled with every goddamned book that Bobby owned. And because they knew that stanza referred to a poem. There were a hundred or so more that Bobby had borrowed so-to-speak, from the library and the local book store. They had researched all night, but came up zilch and Dean was starting to lose his hope.

Faith and fire go hand in hand. Stanza two. All has been lost in this light, but reach for it and fight. The words had been echoing in his head before he lost consciousness due to exhaustion and they were about to start up again. He reached towards the opened book next to him.

"Nah ahh," Bobby chided as he entered the room holding two plates. "You gotta eat breakfast and then we'll get started."

There was a look in Bobby's eyes that brooked no argument and Dean knew that two hours sleep and an empty stomach made for lack of concentration, so he took the plate. Two sausages, three eggs, toast and a side of bacon. "Thanks," he said as he picked up the knife and fork.

Bobby cleared the books off of the chair opposite and sat down. "You know, I've been thinking," he said as he cut off some of the sausage. "Maybe we're going about this all the wrong way. Just looking for a stanza in every poem possible, is like looking for a needle in a haystack."

You don't say, Dean thought sarcastically. "So what would you suggest?"

"Well… There must be something in the words. I mean maybe those words aren't the actual ones in the poem. They certainly mean nothing to me. I've never heard anything like it in any poem I've read, so maybe they're the clue to finding the poem that means something."

Dean spoke around a mouthful of food. "Makes sense."

"Faith and fire," Bobby said. "That could be heaven and hell, I suppose."

Dean nodded and continued eating. He was hungrier than he thought.

"And all has been lost in this light. Well… I'm a bit stumped about that." He looked apologetically at Dean. "They say you see a light when you die?"

Dean finished the last mouthful of his breakfast. "Well I've been dead a few times now and I can't say I remember seeing any damned light to go to. No light, no tunnel, nada." He put the plate on a pile of books that was high enough to serve as a table and bought his hand to the amulet around his neck. He knew Bobby was trying, but something inside him said he was not really on the right path. He slid the amulet off and held it in his palm.

"Everything led me to this." He looked intensely at Bobby. "I had to find it. I had to get it back."

"But why?"

"I dunno." He shrugged. "Maybe God has a sick sense of humor. Cas said that this was like a compass. He said it burned bright in God's presence."

"As bright as a tiger, I bet." Bobby looked down at his hands.

Dean frowned, he didn't understand the reference, but then Bobby's eyes widened, something changed on his face and then he was on his feet searching through a pile of books. "I've got it, I know I have. I saw it, just didn't get to it yet."

"Got what?" Dean stood and just kind of hovered.

"William Blake. I've got it here, I'm sure of it."

Dean frowned as he searched his memory banks. "William Blake," he said out loud and then it dawned on him. "Tiger tiger burning bright."

"Yeah, but it's spelt with a Y," Bobby said absently as his search got more frantic. "Where the hell…" Bobby was starting to throw books on the floor.

Dean moved across to a shelf and reached way up to grab his laptop. He'd left it in a high place so it could not be buried in amongst the sea of books. He opened it and switched it on. Bobby was still looking when he bought up the browser and typed in. William Blake. Tyger Tyger burning bright.

Dean stared at the screen for a moment and then he read it out loud.

"Tyger Tyger burning bright. In the forests of the night.
What immortal hand or eye. Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, and what art. Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat. What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? What the chain? In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp. Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears, and watered heaven with their tears. Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger Tyger burning bright. In the forests of the night.
What immortal hand or eye. Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?"

Bobby stood frozen, staring at him as Dean raised his eyes slowly to meet the older man's. He didn't know why or how they knew, but they did. This was the poem they had been looking for.

They had spent the last three hours going over the poem with a fine tooth comb. They both thought it meant something. Their research had taken them to Wikipedia and then they were certain. This poem was one of two sets of poems that William Blake had combined into one book. The book was called Songs of Innocence and of Experience. It correlated the two ends of a person's life.

Wikipedia further explained that it was about childhood as a time and a state of protected "innocence," but not immune to the fallen world and its institutions. This world sometimes impinges on childhood itself, and in any event becomes known through "experience," a state of being marked by the loss of childhood vitality, by fear and inhibition, by social and political corruption, and by the manifold oppression of Church, State, and the ruling classes.

Dean felt like it was talking about him and Sam. "Do you think he could have been a prophet?" Dean asked.

"Who… Blake?" Bobby looked doubtful.

"Yeah, I mean, Chuck was."

Bobby frowned. "True."

"I don't see any other explanation. I mean… not really. The second stanza seems pretty clear to me."

"It does?"

"Well the last part, anyhow. On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?"

Bobby looked blankly at him.

"Don't you get it?" Dean leaned forward in his chair. "Fire... That's the light that's taken everything from me, starting with Mom. I have to have faith and go into the fire, fight and bring Sam back."

"You think you gotta walk into hell, boy?" Bobby looked worried and a little frightened.

Dean sighed and looked down. "I would... you know I would, but... No... I don't think Sam would ask me to do that. It says reach, so I'm thinking maybe I have reach out and get something."

"Like what?"

"No idea."

Bobby sighed. "Maybe we have to look at another part of the clue. Didn't Tania say, the first time? Maybe she was talking about the first time Sam and you did something? Maybe something important?"

"Like what?" Dean threw his arms up in frustration. "The first hunt, the first save, the first kill?" Dean stood up and moved to look out of the window. "Man, it could be a million things."

"There's nothing... nothing at all that stands out in your mind, more than anything else? Something that shifted things? Some first that maybe changed things in one way or another? Headed you in a different direction?" Bobby asked.

Dean shook his head slowly and continued to stare out into Bobby's yard. He could only see bits of beat up old cars and bikes. He remembered working tirelessly out there, under the beating sun to put the Impala back together. He remembered placing the toy soldier back in the ashtray. His eyes drifted to the spot where she had sat all those years ago and to the one standing tree, almost bare and brown, he had sat under to take a break. He couldn't seem to drag his eyes away from that tree and then there was white around his vision and he wasn't looking out of Bobby's window anymore.

The tree was still there, but it wasn't the same tree. It was larger and much greener. An oak, maybe and its trunk was thick with healthy bark. There was grass all around and when he looked to his left he could see an old shack that looked totally out of place. It was decrepit, with no paint and the door was off its hinges. The windows were all broken and the fence surrounding it barely standing.

He hardly got time to voice his, 'what the fuck', before he heard a voice. It was familiar and then like a voyeur he watched as to forms came running into view. He recognized the first one as Sammy immediately and did a double take when he saw his younger self running fast to catch up.

"No fair, you cheated," Dean whined.

"You're just mad because I can run as fast as you now."

"Am not."

Young Sam grinned and looked towards the shack. "So this is it, huh?"

"Yep," Dean said and pulled out his sawn-off. "Dad said his EMF went ballistic."

"So why didn't he hunt the thing himself?" Sammy asked.

"I told you. Caleb called and told him he was in trouble. He had to get over there straight away."

Sammy frowned. "Well maybe we should wait until he gets back. Pastor Jim is gonna have a fit if he knows we came down here."

"Pastor Jim's setting up the church for the evening service. He won't even know we're gone." Young Dean bumped Sammy with his shoulder. "You're not chicken are you?" he teased.

"No... no course not." He took in a deep breath and took a step forward.

"Cool," Dean said and grabbed Sammy by the arm. "You stay behind me, you hear. I know what I'm doing and it's my job to protect you, so just follow me, okay?"

Sammy nodded and turned a little pale. "O...okay, Dean."

Now Dean started to move towards the house, too, but the earth seemed to shift and he felt giddy. Then suddenly...

"Dean?"

He felt Bobby's arm pull him closer and he was being manhandled to sit down.

"What the hell happened?" Bobby was asking and he realized he was back.

"Dunno," Dean said as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You just kind of toppled over. Fainted I guess."

Dean opened his eyes and felt a little embarrassed. "Girls faint, Bobby. I just must have... passed out."

"Hmm..." Bobby's tone was gruff, but lined with worry. "You feel sick? If you were sick you should have told me. I'll-,"

"I'm fine," Dean interrupted. "But I think I remember what first, well, kinda..."

"You do?"

Dean furrowed his brow. The shack had been deserted for years, but it was close to Pastor Jim's farm and church and their Dad had stumbled on the hunt there by chance. "It was supposed to be our first hunt, except..." Dean shook his head. "It wasn't, because..." Dean stared down at the floor. "We never even made it into the house. Sam was about eight I think. He was nervous. He didn't stay behind me like I told him. He..." Dean trailed off. He looked at Bobby. "Come on," he said. I'll tell you on the way. We need to get to Blue Earth, Minnesota."

"Are you really sure about this," Sammy said as he followed Dean towards the old house.

"Yes, now shhh... We're supposed to be stealthy."

Sammy nodded. They were heading down the path slowly. It was covered with thick overgrown grass and weeds. There was one tree in the middle of the field in front of the house.

Dean, felt rather that saw, Sammy stop and turned around.

Sam was moving towards the tree.

"Sammy," Dean whispered. "What the heck are you doing?"

"There's weeds and crap everywhere."

Dean frowned. "Yeah, so?"

"But this tree looks as though someone's pruned it... and look at the grass around it. It looks like someone's mowed a perfect circle around it."

Dean furrowed his brow. It did kind of look like that, but he was too eager to get to the house. Too eager to show his little brother how real men hunted, to take it seriously. "Forget that, come on."

Sammy was staring and still moving slowly towards the tree. His hand was outstretched and there was a blank expression on his face.

Dean rolled his eyes and hurried over to it. "It's just a tree, Sam... Look..." He made a fist and knocked on it. "See, just a tree."

Sam blinked and took another step forward. He flinched and then scrunched his eyes.

"Sammy?" Dean moved to his brother's side.

"The tree goes all the way down, Dean. All the way down and all the way up."

Sam was breathing heavy, like he'd been for a five mile run and Dean was suddenly skeptical. "Stop it, Sammy. You just don't want to go in the house, so you're making this crap up. But it isn't a game, Sammy. It's serious. There's something evil in that house and we've gotta hunt it."

"It's not evil," Sammy said confidently and took another step forward. His eyes scrunched again, but this time he doubled over. "It's too hot."

Dean wrapped his arms around Sammy and helped him to stand up. "What's too hot?" He looked from Sam to the tree and then back to Sam. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, but physically dragged Sam backwards, away from the tree.

Sammy seemed to recover almost immediately, but he looked pale. "Oh crap, Sammy," Dean whined. "Are you sick or something, because this was supposed to be our first hunt and you've gone and spoiled it."

"Sorry," Sammy said and glanced at Dean pleadingly, before he lowered his eyes.

Dean sighed and placed his hand on the small of Sammy's back as he led him back up the path and towards Pastor Jim's farm. "Don't worry, Sammy. It's my fault. You're just too young to do a real hunt. I should have known better."

Sammy stopped and looked back at the tree, before nodding and continuing to walk. "Yeah..." He hung his head. "Sorry."

"So it was a real hunt," Bobby said from the passenger seat of the Impala.

Dean glanced quickly at him, but returned his eyes to the road. It was wrong, all wrong, seeing someone else riding shotgun instead of Sam. "Yeah, I guess, I just don't think it was 'our' first. We didn't hunt anything and it certainly wasn't the first time we'd come across something supernatural. So what's with the first?"

Bobby seemed to dismiss his ramblings. "Sounds to me like a tree of life."

"A... tree? I thought there was only one. 'The' tree of life. The tree with the apple and all of that?"

"That's the most famous, but there's Celtic, Indian, Japanese... It shows up in most cultures," Bobby explained. "Figure there's got to be more than one, cause it's mentioned in lots of lore."

"Sam said it goes all the way up and all the way down." Dean swallowed hard. "Do you think... I mean... Jesus, Bobby, he was eight years old. How could he have possibly..." Dean tightened his grip on the wheel. "I should have listened. I teased him... gave him grief about that for ages."

"What did your dad say?"

Dean frowned. "Well there's the thing. I never saw it as a hunt, because I didn't think much more about it. Never told dad. Just thought it was Sammy being, you know... Sammy... 'sides, think dad would have ripped me a new one if he thought I put Sammy in harm's way."

"Didn't your dad's EMF go crazy? Didn't he check it out?"

"Yeah... yeah he did. He came back and said he was mistaken. There was nothing to worry about." Dean rolled his eyes. He remembered thinking how his dad never made mistakes like that, but he let it lie, because he didn't want his dad to know they'd been down there and he was kind of relieved. It also gave him more ammunition to use against Sammy.

They checked into a motel three hours this side of the Minnesota boarder. It was just past midnight and Dean needed to do some research about this damned tree. He was being led to it and from what Bobby was saying it was right on the money.

"Sam?" Michael said. "Sam?"

Sam opened his eyes and turned his face sideways. He was still on the rack and had been there for some time. He was still naked and he could smell the dried feces and blood that stuck to his balls and thighs.

The torture had gone on for what seemed like forever. Rape. Sometimes Lucifer was himself or their dad or Bobby, he even took on Castiel's form now and then, but it was when he was Dean that it hurt the most. Not physically, the red hot pain was the same throughout, but when he was Dean, it hurt in a whole other way.

Michael touched him and he was once again healed. He was sitting back on the couch in Ruby's quarters, dressed and clean.

"We're close, Sam," Michael said. "Dean's figured it out. He's on his way."

"Figured what out?" Sam stood, suddenly petrified. "Where's he going? On his way to where?" He took a step forward, anger on his face. Michael could burn the flesh from his bones if he chose to, but he was talking about Dean and putting him in danger.

"Blue Earth, Minnesota," Michael said simply.

Sam frowned and shook his head slightly. "Blue Earth, Minnesota?"

"Have you never wondered how some demons make their way to the surface?"

Sam narrowed his eyes. "Devil's gates, deals, working for Lucifer," he offered.

"Devil's gates need to be opened from the outside, deals need to be made and my brother..." Michael trailed off. "He knows he can send some back, but he cannot return himself and so it won't make any difference now, he will need to wait for a new generation before he tries again."

Sam's mind reeled with the words, new generation and try again, but he needed to concentrate. "So he can send them back?"

"Yes, but the energy depletion seems hardly worth it. It takes a lot to work the elevator from down here."

"Elevator?" Sam grinned humorlessly. "You're kidding, right?"

"From heaven and earth and down below. Birth, death and rebirth."

Sam looked down as he tried to remember where he'd heard, maybe read, those words before. It flashed though his brain quickly and then he looked up at Michael. "The tree of life," he said sounding astounded. "India's tree of knowledge, Africa's Omum-borambonga tree. The Celtic tree of life, I mean... the list is endless." His mouth gaped open. "They were all just... elevators?"

"Not all are designed for that purpose, no, but some are and specifically the Ceiba."

"Ceiba," Sam repeated. It sounded familiar.

"The Mayan people," Michael prompted. "They believed it represented the transition from the underground to the middle ground and then to the heavens..." He smiled at Sam. "They were right."

"Middle ground being earth, right?"

Michael nodded.

Sam's mind looped backwards. "So why is Dean going to Blue Earth, Minnesota?" The words were hardly out of his mouth when his eyes widened. "It was hot, the tree was hot."

"Yes, Sammy," Michael agreed. "But only to those with demon blood in their veins. It was heaven's first acknowledgment of your existence."

Dean felt his stomach churn as he pulled the Impala onto the dirt road that led down to the old farm house. He felt a wave of déjà vu roll over him as he crawled the car closer.

"You okay?" Bobby said from the passenger seat.

Dean gave him a sideways glance. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be," he said defensively.

"Oh, I don't know," Bobby said. "Maybe cause we're driving down a road that holds a lot of memories about you and your brother... Your dead brother, who we're about to try and resurrect and in doing so we're taking the risk that we might unleash a thousand demons or maybe even Satan himself… again or if not maybe we-,"

"Yeah, alright," Dean interrupted, sighing. "I get the drift."

The old farm house came into view and Dean drove the car to park just outside of the door. They had no idea who or if, anyone was living there, but it looked just as he remembered it. It was eerie, how the old letterbox was still painted the same color blue and what was left of the fence still sloped inwards.

They both got out of the car and as they approached the door, it was easy to see the place was deserted. There was a 'for sale' sign laying in the long overgrown grass to the left. Dean knocked anyhow and then pushed open the door. "Hello!" A rat scurried past him and he felt a sense of sadness and mixed feelings of nostalgia as he walked in and towards the kitchen.

The place was putrid and it was clear from the shit that was in almost every part of the room that a family or two of rats, mice and other vermin had taken up residence there.

There was no furniture in the place, except for an old table and one wooden chair, which Dean figured wouldn't take either of their weights. "I figure we pick a room and clean it enough to bed down for the night. Think we should take a look at the tree tomorrow, when we've got a full day of light."

"Yep, sounds like a plan," Bobby agreed.

Dean couldn't sleep, he drank a couple of beers, paced outside, so as not to disturb Bobby, who didn't seem to have any trouble and was snoring in the corner of the filthy room.

I'm coming, Sam. Hang on, bro... I'm coming.

Sam woke to being manhandled off the rack. He was whole, or at least his body was. "Michael?"

"Come on," Michael said as he pulled Sam to his feet. "We haven't got much time and once we enter the room, they'll know what we are trying to do."

Sam found his footing and took a step forward. "The tree elevator?"

It must have sounded strange even to Michael, because he grinned. "Yes, but we need to get there and we need to get Dean one more message."

They walked down the darkened cave-like corridor. "Is Dean at the tree?" Sam asked.

"He will be soon, but he needs to use the amulet and I'm not sure if he will figure out what it is for in time."

"What is it for?" Sam walked beside the angel that still wore his younger brother's face. Things were starting to fall into place for him. He couldn't exactly remember the dreams Michael had implanted, but apparently that was a good thing. The only dreams he could remember were his own and that's what Lucifer had picked up on and that's when the constant rapes had started.

"In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand dare seize the fire?"

Sam looked confused for a moment. "Tyger Tyger?"

The corner of Michael's mouth tipped upward. "Yes." He looked surprised.

Sam shook his head. "What's that got to do with the amulet?"

"Nothing really and yet everything."

"Michael." Sam stopped walking. "Using this tree... Bringing us back. Is there any danger to Dean?" He suddenly felt ill. He wasn't about to risk his brother.

"Not if he does it right." Michael's face was stern. "Now come on." He turned and started to walk again. "It's not far."

Sam took in a breath and began to follow again. "What do you mean do it right?"

Michael turned left and Sam was a few feet behind. "Quiet," Michael warned and held up a hand. He suddenly reached out and grabbed Sam around the throat.

Sam's eyes widened and Michael laughed mockingly. "Oh yeah, Sammy, you are mine tonight."

It took another couple of seconds for Sam to see the other two demons approach. They looked down, bowing their heads. "Sir," they said to Michael with a small nod as they passed. He nodded back and the moment they were out of sight, Michael let Sam go and turned to keep walking.

"It's over here." Michael stopped in front of a door. It had strange carvings on it and Sam guessed it was Enochian.

Sam swallowed hard. "What now?"

Michael produced a knife and laid the blade across his wrist. He cut deeply and red blood leaked out. He lifted his wrist towards Sam. "Drink."

"What?"

"You think demon blood gave you strength? Angel blood is tenfold."

"No," Sam breathed out defensively.

"We don't have time to send it from another dream, nor an innocent to deliver it. You must do it live." He shoved his wrist to Sam's mouth. "Now drink."

Dean was by the tree at first light, he was surprised at how very tall the tree was. Much taller than he remembered. In fact, it looked nothing like he remembered as he ran his hand over the spiky trunk.

He'd been researching the tree's origins. The best he could figure was that it was around two hundred years old and it had been planted when a group of Honduran settlers took up residence. They were of an ancient culture that sprouted from Central America. It was a little known country that boarded Guatemala, south west of El Salvador. They were Mayan and the Maya people's culture was rich in myth and folklore about the 'tree of life'.

"So what now?" Bobby asked as he placed the last of their supplies at his feet and looked up, scratching his head. "So this is it, huh?"

"Yep," Dean said. "It's a Ceiba tree."

"Ceiba? Isn't that a cotton tree?"

"Apparently so." Dean started to pull out the supplies. They were going to lay a mixture of salt and holly fire around the tree. Draw devil's traps and other various sigils. They had no idea what they were opening up here and the last thing they wanted was more demons walking the earth.

It was still early morning when they had finished with the precautions they had laid out and Dean stood inside the circle, staring.

"So I reiterate," Bobby said. "What now?"

"I have to place my hand into a fire, so…" He looked across at Bobby and pulled out his lighter. "I guess we set the tree alight."

"And then what?"

"I don't know!" Dean said, frustrated. "The Maya believe it reaches heaven and hell. That it connects them."

"So we just light it up and they come tumbling out… Including Sam?"

Dean rolled his eyes. He didn't know and if the truth be known, he didn't care. Everything had led him here and this was his chance to get Sam back. Whatever the cost, he was going to take it. He removed his amulet from his neck and looked down at it.

"Dean?" he heard Bobby's panicked voice vaguely at his side. He was aware that he had dropped to his knees, but there was a sharp, blinding pain in his head and it was filtering out all that was around him.

Amulet in his hand.
White light in his eyes.
The pain of burning on his palm.
Color, bright bright color.
Flames, flames… fire.

"Dean!" Bobby was screaming and trying to haul him up.

He scrunched his eyes tight and squeezed the amulet until it dug so deeply into his hand he could feel blood seep from his palm. "It's not the tree that has to burn," he said suddenly and opened his eyes slowly. "It's me."

Dean stood and Bobby was giving him a look of utter disbelief .

"What are you talking about," Bobby asked. "I ain't gonna just stand by and let you burn yourself to death."

"Get out of the circle," Dean instructed. He now knew what was needed.

"What? No!"

"Get out of the goddamned circle," Dean shouted in Bobby's face and pushed him, hard. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Bobby was breathing heavy. "Or are you so damned bent on getting Sam back that you just-,"

"Get the fuck out!" He pushed again, this time, so hard that Bobby landed on his backside. Dean felt a tinge of guilt at the look of betrayal on the older man's face, but he was outside of the circle and Dean looked back at the tree. He didn't know how or where the words came from, but they were there, on the tip of his tongue as he looked from the tree back to the amulet in his hand. He hesitated as memories of fire assaulted his mind. His mom, Jess, his father, Adam, the thousands of bones they'd burned. He hated it. The heat and the light, it totally made sense now. This was the 'light' that had taken so much from him. He didn't know if he was going to spontaneously combust, or what, but he knew the 'fight' he had to win was not an external one.

He took in a calming breath and just let the words spill out of him."Deus in Olympus audite meus placitum , EGO sum vestri vernula quod Volo meus frater solvo. EGO sum vestri incendia permissum is exsisto solvo quod lux lucis. Pontus gap quod planto is vox."

#########

Bobby got to his feet and watched in horror. The moment Dean started to speak in Latin the sky darkened, it could have almost been night and the clouds seemed to roll in from nowhere.

He wondered where Dean had got the Latin from and was trying desperately to translate it in his head. God in heaven hear my plea… Dean was looking down at his hand and Bobby could see droplets of blood falling from his palm. I am your servant and I want my brother free. I am your fire and your light… "Oh, god Dean," Bobby mumbled. "I hope you know what you're doing?" Bridge the gap and make it right.

Like in a bad horror movie, thunder suddenly roared from the skies and Dean's face changed. Bobby could see it clearly. The boy was in pain. His hand was shaking and somehow Bobby knew it was from heat off the amulet as it started to glow.

#########

Brighter… hotter, Dean gritted his teeth. He knew he had to concentrate. He knew he had to keep hold. The light flickered and danced and then started to make its way up his arm. The heat was unbearable, but he refused to let it stop him. It traveled to his shoulders and neck and then he felt like his head was going to explode. Heat and light took over his entire body and then he could see nothing but white. A second later, that light beamed out of him and through his eyes, towards the tree.

Sam felt as he always did, after drinking demon blood, strong and powerful, but there was something subtly different. This had been Michael's blood and like Lucifer, Michael was not a demon. This time he remembered his dream. Except… it wasn't a dream. He was awake and Michael was standing there with his hand on his shoulder. He knew what he'd done. He'd pushed thoughts, pictures, words into his brother's mind and his brother had responded. Sam's eyes sprung open. "Dean's doing it," he said breathlessly. "He's opening it."

"Good," Michael said as he guided Sam through the door. "Let's hope he hurries. Lucifer already knows we're here."

Dean couldn't see, he was totally blinded by the white before his eyes, but then there was a sudden flicker and he was seeing color. Red, blue, black and yellow danced inside his eyelids. If it wasn't for the fact that he couldn't see already, he was sure the brightness would have blinded him. Slowly, slowly he could see the colors shifting and swirling into some sort of form.

A door? What the fuck? Dean couldn't believe it. A simple ordinary door. The colors had taken on the shape of a door. He was somehow aware that the wind had picked up and although he couldn't see it, he knew the sky was dark.

The earth seemed to shake and the thunder clapped. He felt terror grip his heart as he watched fire, real fire, lap at his toes, his feet. He was on fire and as it made its way up to his waist, all he could think about was that he hoped he lived long enough to see Sammy again.

He moved forward towards the tree. Painfully he reached for the handle. It burnt like a motherfucker, like when he'd tried to get Adam from the 'beautiful room', but he just held on and turned.

He could hear Bobby screaming and he knew that he was trying to put the fire out with what water they had, when he felt the splash, but somehow he knew that even jumping into the sea could not extinguish these flames.

He felt his heart beat faster and hammer against his chest. He couldn't move, like there were chains around him. He was burning alive, but all he could think about was that door and how the colors were moving and how the door seemed to open.

The color changed quickly back to white in an almighty flash and then everything went black. He was still on fire and he was totally blind. "Sammy!" he screamed out. No… no… he hadn't done all of this for nothing. God, no…

The earth moved again and then it was shaking. Thunder, loud and demanding, echoed in his mind. His brain was a furnace of heat and pain, but the sky opened up and Dean could feel the heavy pelts of rain teem down. Like spears from the stars, Dean thought briefly as he felt the intense burn start to subside.

He had just been on fire. Burnt beyond recognition, but he was still standing and the pain had all but subsided. He was afraid, but like tears from heaven, the water had put out the fire. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked at his hands. Skin and blood and bone intact. Bobby was standing in front of him, paler than he'd ever seen him before. When he looked over his shoulder to the tree, it was just a tree and he felt it twist the sinews of his heart. He had failed.

"Dean?"

He knew that voice. Soft and broken as it was, he'd know it anywhere. He spun around slowly. Oh god, please… "Sammy?"

Dean all but carried Sam back to the old farm house. The four, or was that five, of them moved into the room they had made halfway reasonable.

Dean had hardly taken his eyes off Sam and when he lowered him to the makeshift bed on the floor he turned defensively towards Michael. "What's wrong with him?"

"He depleted a lot of energy getting us back here."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "He did?"

"Yes. I could not have come back if I did not ride with him."

It didn't make sense, but Dean was too overwhelmed by the whole thing to really try and understand. He had Sam back and that was all that mattered.

"So what now?" Bobby asked.

"I am depleted, too," Michael admitted. "I will need to rest and then I will return to heaven."

"Is Adam still in there?" Dean said.

Michael tilted his head and for a second Dean wondered if that was an angel thing. It reminded him so much of Castiel.

"Yes. He is still here. He was lucky. I wore him in hell and therefore he was safe."

Dean's eyes traveled slowly over to Sam, who was lying with his eyes closed and his breathing was shallow.

"Sam was not so lucky," Michael answered the unasked question. "Lucifer chose to wear several vessels down there. Sam was not one of them."

Dean nodded. He couldn't speak, because if he did he knew his voice would break. He'd had firsthand experience of hell and he felt bile rise in his throat.

"Okay," Bobby interrupted. "It's been a big day. Let's just bed down for the night and work it out in the morning.

It was only late afternoon, but Dean nodded again and moved to his brother's side. He shifted in beside him and maneuvered so Sam could use his chest for a pillow. He couldn't talk as he wrapped protective arms around Sam, pulling him close, but when he could, he was going to make sure Michael understood that Adam was their blood and he wasn't going anywhere.

It was very late in the evening, when Dean finally let his eyes close. He'd kept watch and taken solace in the sound of his brother's breathing. Bobby was snoring and Michael was standing quietly in one of the corners. He knew angels didn't sleep, but it was creepy and it made him very uncomfortable.

"D… Dean?" Sam's voice was hardly a whisper.

Dean's eyes sprung straight open. "Hey," he said softly. "Don't try to speak. Do you need anything? Want some water?" He started to move away, but Sam grabbed him hard enough to hurt and shook his head.

"No… no… Please don't go."

"It's okay, Sammy." Dean repositioned and squeezed Sam's shoulder. "Not going anywhere. Promise."

Sam looked up at him through bloodshot eyes. "Is this a dream?"

"No, Sammy, it's real. You're back. You're home." He looked around at the desolate room. "Okay, maybe not home, but you're here with me." Dean felt Sam nod against his chest.

"You are my home, Dean," Sam mumbled.

When he looked back down, Sammy's eyes were already closed.

Sam woke to hearing voices from the other room. It was light outside and the air was cold, but the blankets were warm. He thought about just closing his eyes for a moment, going back to sleep, but the voices were getting louder and he could make out Dean's.

He had no idea where he was, just a sense that he had been there before. He stood up and felt giddy and then panic rose in his chest. Was he dreaming? Was he still in hell? He lurched forward and made his feet move towards the voices.

"Over my dead body," Dean said angrily. "He's our brother and he stays."

Michael grinned and seemed to stand taller. "That could be arranged," he said taking a step towards Dean.

"No!" Sam said from the doorway and moved to try and stand in front of his brother, but he was weak and he stumbled. Dean needed to grab him to keep him upright.

"Sammy," Dean said.

Bobby moved around to take hold of Sam's other arm. "You okay, kid?"

Sam had his eyes transfixed on Michael. He'd heard enough to put two and two together. "Are you going back to heaven?"

"Yes," Michael said. "But your brother wants to stop me."

"I don't want to stop you," Dean corrected. "I just want you to leave Adam here."

Michael shook his head and the look on his face was condescending. "You don't get it, do you?"

"Get what?" Dean said, shifting his grip on Sam.

"Adam is dead. He should return to heaven. If the truth be known, so should Sam. He has finally proved himself worthy."

Oh no… wrong thing to say.

Dean looked over and made sure Bobby had a good grip on him before letting go to stand between them. "You're not taking Sam," Dean snarled between gritted teeth. "If you even try… And you're not taking Adam either."

A smug look flickered over Michael's face before he took in a deep breath. "Let's be clear," he said. "If I wanted to take Sam, there would be absolutely nothing you could do about it." He stared Dean in the eyes for a moment. "But Sam wants to stay and he helped save me, so I'll give him that choice. Adam on the other hand should-,"

"Give him that choice too," Sam piped up from behind Dean.

Michael looked over to him and frowned. "Leaving you here, means you will probably end up back downstairs, but that's your choice." He glanced towards Dean, a knowing looking on his face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean hissed.

Michael looked back at Sam, dismissing Dean completely and sighed. "But considering it is you asking, I will also give Adam that choice. He closed his eyes. "I will step back. Ask him yourself and be happy with his answer."

There was a sudden change on the face of Michael, it was Adam standing in front of them now and he swayed. Dean moved forward and caught him. "Adam?"

Adam looked around, confused. "Yeah… yeah it's me."

They all moved into the other, cleaner room and sat both Adam and Sam down on the mattress on the floor.

"What happened?" Adam asked.

"What do you remember?" Bobby said.

"We were… I was supposed to be Michael's vessel…"

"Oh you were that alright," Dean said snidely.

"But Zachariah tricked me. We were dying and you…" He looked directly at Dean. "You were gonna say yes, but then you didn't."

"Anything else?" Bobby prompted.

"A bright light and then… Falling… I remember the feeling of falling, like… forever."

Bobby nodded and looked at Dean.

"You were in hell," Dean explained and did his best to fill in the gaps.

It took over an hour and Sam was weary again. He laid down on the mattress and Dean looked over at him.

"Sammy?"

"Just tired, Dean."

Dean nodded and looked back at Adam. "So now, he's gone, or you know, in the back of you somewhere, but you've got the choice. He said he has to leave by nightfall and he wants to take you with him."

Adam seemed remarkably calm as he took all this in and nodded. "So let me get this straight. I get to either, stay dead and go to heaven, or stay alive and stay here."

"Well, maybe not here, exactly," Dean quipped with a grin. "But you'll be alive and you can do whatever it is you want. Get a job, go back to school… Start fresh."

"Argg…" Adam suddenly scrunched his eyes and grabbed at his head.

Sam sat up and Dean moved to Adam's side. "Adam?" they asked in unison.

Adam remained with his hands over his face for a moment or two, before slowly sliding them down his cheeks and opening his eyes. He looked directly at Sam and Sam knew he'd remembered something.

Dean looked between them. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry," Adam said to Sam and his face paled a little.

Sam frowned.

"Sorry for what?" Dean interjected.

"He let me see," Adam said.

"Who let you see?" Dean asked, but Adam kept his eyes firmly fixed on him.

Sam didn't need to ask, he could tell by the sudden compassion in his younger brother's eyes, what he had seen.

"I know there's all kind of torture down there, but… Why that?"

Sam felt himself flush, but before Sam could say anything, Adam got to his feet.

"I wanna go back."

"What?" Dean said disbelievingly. "You gotta be joking?"

"Heaven's called heaven for a reason, Dean." Adam looked him straight in the eyes. "I was at peace. I was happy. I wanna go back."

"That's Michael talking," Dean snarled.

"No, Dean, it's not."

Adam and Dean were almost chest to chest. It looked like Dean wanted to hit the guy.

"Alright, that's enough," Bobby said taking a step forward and then physically getting himself between them. He turned to Dean. "This is Adam's choice, Dean. We have no right-,"

"Bullshit," Dean exclaimed. "This is Michael's influence."

"Dean," Sam said softly. "Adam doesn't have the ties here like we do."

"He has us," Dean gestured to Sam and himself.

"Oh yeah, and that's turned out so well for me, so far."

Dean's expression went from mad to guilty in a split second. Guilty wasn't easy to read on Dean, but Sam had been doing it for a life time.

"I'm sorry, Dean. Please understand. I know we're blood, but… I… I just want… I need to be with my mom."

Dean took in a deep breath and nodded slightly. "Yeah… okay."

Adam sighed and walked over to Sam. He looked at him with something akin to pity. "Maybe going back to hell. Is it worth it?" He seemed to have figured out what Michael was talking about.

Sam had, almost immediately. It was Dean and Bobby who were out of the loop. "Yeah," he said quietly. "It is."

"Would someone let me in on what's going on?" Dean said abruptly, but Adam just reached down and took Sam's hand. He shook it with both of his own and then turned to Dean.

"You know, Dean. With all that hot air and bluster, I still think…" A tear welled up in Adam's eye. "If it had turned out different… I think you would have been a pretty awesome big brother."

Sam could see Dean physically deflate. Adam had just done what only Sam had ever been able to do. He'd got under his defenses.

Adam grinned and then nodded at Bobby. A second later, Michael was back. A harsh edge to his tone, "Are you satisfied?"

Dean's jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

"Take care of him, Michael," Sam said.

Michael's eyes glided to his and he gave him a small smile. "I will."

There was a sudden flutter and a small breeze and then they were all left looking around. Both Michael and Adam were gone.

They had dropped Bobby home and had stayed for a few days while Sam had regained his strength.

They were in the Impala heading south and Dean seemed to just be happy to drive.

"So where we headed?" Sam asked.

"Beats me," Dean said with a smile. "Vegas, Disneyworld. You choose."

"I'm serious, Dean."

"So am I…" Dean glanced across at him. "We're not gonna hunt, so I guess we've got all the time in the world."

"Wait, what?" Sam wasn't quite sure he'd heard Dean right. "What do you mean where not gonna hunt."

"Well, not for a while, anyhow. You gotta get your strength back."

"I've got my strength back. I'm fine."

"You've just spent six months in hell, Sam. You're not fine."

"Not six months," Sam corrected softly. "Sixty years." He looked down at his hands.

Dean took in a huge breath and Sam could see his knuckles turn white as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. "Yeah," his voice was apologetic. "I kinda forgot about the time difference."

There was a beat of silence and Sam had to stop himself from reacting when Dean reached out and placed his hand on his knee. He left it there for a moment, before squeezing. "So what do you say? I reckon Vegas."

Sam couldn't help the shy grin as he looked over at Dean. Adam had got it right. He really was an awesome big brother. "I've never been to Disneyworld."

Dean patted his knee twice before returning his hand to the steering wheel. "Then Disneyworld it is."

It had taken two burnt out credit cards and it would take a hell of a lot of pool, to make up for the money they had spent over the last three days. They were staying at one of those hotels that came as a package, if you spent at least a week. As hotels go, it wasn't all that bad. It even had a small indoor spa.

The money was all worth it though, Dean thought as he watched Sam stumble in the door and move straight to the bathroom. Okay, so it wasn't great that Sam was about to heave his guts up, but he'd been laughing almost to the point of crying and Dean had warned him about eating those hotdogs before they got on that rollercoaster.

He flopped down on his bed and removed his boots. He could hear Sam and it made him feel queasy. It seemed to take forever, but finally he heard the toilet flush and then nothing.

More nothing.

"Sam?"

There was too much quiet and Dean was just about to get up when the bathroom door opened and Sam emerged. He had a toothbrush in his mouth and looked a little green around the edges.

Dean chuckled. "I did try to warn you."

"Shut up." Sam continued to brush his teeth. "I was fine the other two days," he defended.

"Yeah, but we didn't try the rock n roll coaster those other two days," he reminded. "They don't call it fast and scary for nothing."

"I wasn't scared," Sam said with a roll of his eyes. He walked back into the bathroom and Dean could hear him spit.

"Oh you totally were," he laughed out. "You were screaming louder than those two girls in front of us."

"No, that was you," Sam said as he came out again, but this time he only had a towel around him.

Dean's eyes traced down Sam's bare chest slowly. It was a full minute before he realized he was staring.

"Dean?"

"Ah, yeah…" Dean averted his eyes and felt himself blush slightly.

"I'm gonna give the spa a go. Wanna try?"

"Ah, good idea," Dean said, but the moment Sam moved back into the bathroom and he heard the water start to run he realized… Spa, small, naked… with Sam. Good idea? Not so much.

##########

Dean feigned sleep when Sam finally returned from the bathroom.

"Hey," Sam said. "Thought you were-" He stopped mid sentence and Dean thought it took him a second to realize he was sleeping or… you know… pretending to sleep.

It had been the best, the last few days. He felt like a kid again, only better. Sam was happy and the subject of hell and hunting hadn't come up once.

He heard the other bed creak and the springs protest as Sam climbed into it. He took the chance of cracking open one eye to look at the clock. It was only eight at night. Way too early for sleep by their standards, but they'd been running around like twelve year-olds so maybe that was why he really did feel tired.

He'd heard nothing from Sam, over the past week or so, during the night. He'd expected him to have nightmares, like he'd had and so he'd kept his sleep light, but Sam hadn't and Dean was grateful. He'd wondered what had gone on for all those years. It wasn't like he didn't know, shit, he'd been there for forty, himself, so he had more than a clue, but Adam had asked him why… why that, and if for no other reason, he was curious. Still, he was happy Sam didn't have to relive any of the terror in his dreams, so he let it lie and let real sleep take him.

#########

He had only a second to think, oh, of course and typical when he heard Sam cry out from the bed next to him. He jumped up and was beside his brother a split second later. "Sammy… Sammy wake up, it's just a dream." Sam was on his stomach and Dean tried to turn him over. "Sam!"

Sam bucked and spun with such a force that Dean wasn't expecting, it sent him flying off of the bed.

Sam was wide-eyed and scurried backwards like a crab. "Stay away!"

Dean stood up slowly and held up a hand. "It's okay, Sammy. It was just a nightmare. It's okay." He took a step towards his brother.

"I don't care whose face you wear," Sam said and tears welled in his eyes. "Just…" He started to sob. "Not Dean's, please… please not Dean's."

"Sammy, it's okay, you're not in hell anymore." He inched closer. "You're home, it's okay, you're safe. Was just a dream."

Sam frowned and looked around like he was trying to figure out where he was. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy." He sat down on the bed. "It's me. You're safe."

Sam burst into full blown tears and started to shake. Dean moved so he could wrap his arms around him and Sam sobbed into his chest. "Shhh," Dean soothed. "It's okay. I got ya."

Disneyworld was a bit of a distant memory as they drove for pretty much the fourth day straight. They'd stopped at a couple of motels, but really they had just been driving, with no real plan of where they were going or what they were going to do.

Sam hadn't asked, hadn't brought up going back to hunting and that made Dean all the more angsty.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?" Sam replied from his side of the car. His gaze firmly fixed out the window.

Dean second guessed himself. What came out of his mouth wasn't really what he'd planned on asking, but he figured the road was probably not the best place in the world to have 'that' conversation. "You hungry? Wanna stop for lunch?"

Sam glanced at his watch. "It's only eleven AM."

"I take it that's a no," Dean quipped a little more sharply than he intended.

"Nah, I mean, if you're hungry, we can-,"

"It's okay, it's too early. You're right."

Sam frowned and looked across at him, like he was trying to figure something out.

"What?" Dean was uncomfortable.

"Nothing, just… well you've been kind of …" Sam shrugged slightly. "I don't know, weird, kind of distant."

"Weird? Weird how?"

"I don't know, just…" Sam sighed. "Forget it."

"Weird how?" Dean pushed.

"You seem…" Sam hesitated. "Preoccupied or worried or something."

"Yeah, well I guess having children give you riddles to solve and having trees turn into doors and… oh, having your whole body torched and then your brother come back from hell can do that to a guy, huh?" The words spilled from his lips without thinking.

Sam looked surprised, a little taken aback and looked down at his hands. "Yeah," he said softly. "I guess so."

Dean rolled his eyes, more to himself than anything else. Sam had been in a similar position too. He really did 'get it'. "Sorry, man. I just…" He trailed off, but he knew what was behind his 'weird' disposition. "Sorry."

The next few miles were spent in silence, until they hit a small town just outside of Montana. It was just after one and Dean really was starting to get hungry. "You go order and I'll fill up," he said as he pulled into the gas station and got out of the car. There was a little diner directly opposite. "Cheeseburger and fries," he said across the car roof.

Sam just nodded and started to turn away.

"Hey," Dean said. "And pie."

He gave Dean a half smile."Cheeseburger, fries and pie. Got it." He turned and started to cross the street.

##########

Sam was waiting in one of the diner booths when he came in. He looked like he was daydreaming and didn't see him.

"Hey," Dean said and Sam jumped. He looked at him critically. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam said and a small blush rose on his cheeks. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason." Dean frowned a little and shrugged as he sat down.

The waitress brought over their food and again they fell into a comfortable silence, except, Dean wasn't really comfortable. Sam was right, he was acting weird and distant. What Adam had said about Sam going back to hell, troubled him, but more than that. He was really distraught by Sam's reaction when he'd had that nightmare.

Sam hadn't had any more dreams, or at least none that Dean knew about and he was pretty sure Sam couldn't have hid them, but he also knew it would only be a matter of time. Those kinds of nightmares didn't just vanish. That's why he wanted to wait before returning to hunting. He wanted Sam to have the time to get some resilience back.

Dean ate his last piece of pie and wiped his mouth with the white paper napkin. "Wanna bed down here for the night?" he asked. "Saw a motel not ten minutes back."

Sam glanced at his watch. "It's only two thirty."

"Yeah, well, I'm kinda beat."

"I could drive if you want."

"What, no way. Just thought… dunno, maybe grab a bottle of tequila and watch some pay-per-view. Chill out. Been on the road a bit."

"Yeah." Sam nodded and grabbed his right shoulder with his left hand. He started kneading it and then rolled it backwards. "Suppose I wouldn't mind a break from the car."

"What's wrong with your shoulder?"

"Think I pulled it on that stupid rollercoaster." He rolled it again. "Been giving me trouble for a while."

Dean couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah well you had a death grip, I'm not surprised."

Sam forced a quick dismissive grin and then gave him an annoyed look. "Hmm."

Dean wondered how much pain Sam had been in with his shoulder as he watched him settle in to watch the movie they had decided on. It was due to start in about ten minutes and Dean was pouring a few shots.

He sat down beside his brother and lined up four glasses each. "If this doesn't take the kink out, nothing will."

Sam nodded and then drank one after the other, turning the glasses over as he went.

Dean did the same, but it wasn't until they'd had their tenth or eleventh and the movie was half way through that Dean noticed Sam was still rubbing at his shoulder. "Here," he said and moved in closer. He used both of his hands and started to massage Sam. He rubbed and kneaded, feeling the tension in the muscles, especially on the right hand side. He suddenly stopped and stood up, not quite realizing how drunk he really was and almost lost balance. "Sit on the floor," he instructed Sam as he moved to the duffle bag to retrieve some rubbing oil. They often had sore muscles and kept a supply. "Take your shirt off."

Sam did so in silence, like this was an everyday occurrence. Dean rubbing oil over him and massaging his shoulders.

"Jesus, Sam," Dean said as he started to dig his thumbs right in. "When the hell did you get so hard?" shit shit shit. Dean was glad Sam was facing forward when he realized the double meaning of his statement and he felt a slight blush rise in his cheeks.

Sam squirmed a little as Dean dug deeper, paying special attention to the knotted up muscle on the right side. Slowly Sam relaxed under his hands and Dean could feel the muscles loosen.

Sam rolled his shoulder a little and made a sound of approval, "Hmm."

Dean grinned. "You like that, Sammy?"

Sam's shoulders tensed immediately and he lurched forward, turning to face him. His eyes were wide and he looked confused.

"Sammy?"

Sam blinked and his breathing was heavy. He just stared at Dean, who was still sitting on the couch.

"What is it?" Dean slid down to be on his knees."Sam?"

Sam's eyes darted around the room and then he closed them. Dean could see he was trying to control his erratic breathing.

"Sorry…" Sam opened his eyes slowly.

"No need to be sorry, but you wanna explain what just happened?"

"No, ahh… not really." Sam started to position his legs to stand.

They were only a foot or two away from each other and Dean made the mistake of grabbing Sam's arm to keep him from moving.

Sam twisted violently out of his grasp and backed up on his backside. "Don't!"

Dean had wanted to confirm his suspicions, wanted to ask the question from the time he'd figured it out, but now it just flew out of his mouth. "He used my face when he hurt you, didn't he?"

Tears welled in Sam's eyes, but they didn't spill and he looked down. He nodded just a little, but didn't say anything.

"Yeah," Dean said softly. "Okay." But it wasn't okay and Dean didn't know how to make it okay. "I'm… Oh shit, Sammy." He couldn't help it. He scooted forward closing the gap between them and engulfed his brother in his arms.

Sam was tense, but he let himself be held. He was trembling, but Dean just held on that little bit tighter, until Sam lifted his arms to return the hug.

Things flickered through Dean's mind. Images he couldn't hold back. It didn't take a genius to figure out the kind of 'hurt' Lucifer had inflicted on his brother. He'd had that happen, too, in his time, but it was Alistair or some other flunky demon. He couldn't imagine how it would have felt if they had looked like Sam.

They must have sat there on the floor for quite a while. The movie was over and some other war time drama had begun. He was starting to cramp up, but he didn't want to be the first one to let go. "My leg's falling asleep," he said finally. "Could we move back up onto the couch?"

Sam's face was tucked firmly into his shoulder and he could feel him nod. They started to break apart, but Dean held tight and maneuvered his body so they only had to get up, without breaking the hold.

Dean leaned back against the relatively soft cushions and settled Sam back up against his chest. He was concentrating on keeping his breathing even and his touch soft. He knew the anger and the hatred were just under the surface. He also knew that he could do nothing about those feelings and that frustrated the hell out of him. All he wanted to do was jump into the hole, find Lucifer and and…

"Dean?" Sam straightened up so he could look at him.

Dean was pulled from his musings. "Yeah, Sammy?"

Sam was staring. He had red rings around his eyes, but he hadn't been crying.

"What is it?" Dean asked, feeling a little more concerned than he already was.

Sam just stared and Dean could almost see the cogs of his brain working as if he was trying to figure out or decide on something. A moment later Sam shifted and as if in slow motion, Dean could see what was coming as Sam tilted his head and pressed his lips to Dean's.

It was soft and Dean surprised himself at how easily he moved into the kiss, parting his lips and snaking his hand around the back of Sam's neck. It deepened and Sam flickered his tongue, eliciting a small moan from Dean.

Without much thought the two of them started to make out. Like two teenagers using the couch while the adults were away. It was tentative, but intense. Kisses and hands. Tongues and gropes.

Sam already had his shirt off and Dean moved back just enough to slide his over his head. It felt good, skin on skin as they progressed to a lying position. The couch, of course, was too small for two full grown men, but Dean couldn't bring himself to say anything. He worried that just the small move from there to the bed, could somehow break the spell they both seemed to be under.

They were both hard. There was no getting around that as they started to push their hips together to get more friction.

Sam's hand moved down between them and undid his own jeans button and zipper. "Can…" Sam asked breathlessly. "Can we move to the bed?"

Dean, who was on top, lifted up and grinned, "Thought you'd never ask." He stood up. There was a beat of silence as Sam stood too, but as he'd suspected, the fact that they had broken apart, even for a second, changed things. He now felt awkward and self conscious.

Sam obviously did too as he sat on the bed and slowly removed his socks.

Dean undid his jeans button and frowned. "Sammy are-,"

"I'm sure," Sam interrupted, clearly knowing the question before it was asked. He stood and pulled his jeans and boxers off, freeing his hard and swollen cock.

It was Dean's turn to stare as Sam climbed onto the bed and got under the sheets.

Dean felt a blush, which was stupid, because he'd been naked in front of Sam a million times before, but… He pulled his jeans down and toed them off, never taking his eyes off of Sam.

Slowly, nervously he climbed onto the bed. "This is something we can't go back from, Sam," he said.

"It's not like we haven't done this before."

"We were horny teenagers, Sam."

"Well…" Sam grinned. "We're still horny."

Dean looked down between his legs and chuckled. "Yeah, guess there's no denying that."

Sam smiled and reached out, pulling Dean down for another kiss.

Dean shifted to be under the sheets and beside his brother without breaking the kiss. He moaned when Sam's hand took hold of his length, jacking slowly. "Yeah, Sammy, just like that."

Sam's hand stopped mid-motion.

"Sam?" Dean shifted back to look at his face.

Sam blinked. "Ahh, sorry. Just…"

"What?" Dean was suddenly concerned.

"I had a dream… while I was in hell… one of my own, not one Michael implanted. You said that…" He took in a breath. "A wave of déjà vu, nothing to worry about." Sam did his best to grin.

Dean frowned and thought back to when he'd had the same dream. "You know what, Sammy?"

"What?"

"I don't think it was just Michael that kept us connected."

Sam tilted his head in question, but reached out again. "Whatever it was, I'm just glad we're both here now. Doing this." He pulled Dean closer. "It's worth it."

A red flag went up in Dean's brain. Worth it. That's what Adam had asked. Was this worth going back to hell for? He pulled away.

"Dean?" Sam frowned. "What is it?"

"Michael said that there was a chance you'd end up back downstairs. This is what he was talking about, wasn't it?"

Sam's face changed to somber and he nodded. "Yeah."

"And Adam knew?"

"Yeah," Sam said again. "Michael let him see and I couldn't hide much… anything really. That's why they stopped tearing my skin off and started the…" Sam trailed off, unable to say the word. "It's why Lucifer wore your face when he… He knew it hurt more than any of the other stuff."

Dean closed his eyes. "Oh, god, Sammy." Dean wanted to throw up.

Sam pulled at his arm. "It doesn't matter, Dean. I'm back and this…" He motioned between them. "If the truth be known… I don't think I've ever not wanted it."

Dean was conflicted. He'd never not wanted it, either, but he'd moved on and got use to the idea of never having it. He never imagined that Sam had kept the candle lit, too. More than that, how could he be the one responsible for sending his brother back to hell, now that he'd been absolved of all his other sins?

"Even when I was with Jess," Sam continued. "Even then, I was…" He blew out a slow breath. "Even then I wanted you." He looked down. "Don't get me wrong. I loved her. I did, but… The connection with you, it seems…"

"Unbreakable. Insurmountable?" Dean finished his sentence.

Sam smiled. "Please, Dean. I need this."

"You're so vulnerable now, Sammy. I'm not sure you know what you need."

"Please." Sam leaned forward and kissed him. Long, wet and lavished. A second later, Dean was putty in his hands.

Kisses turned to touches and touches turned to sliding against each other.

"I…" Sam panted. "All the way, Dean. I want you inside of me."

Dean broke the kiss momentarily. "You sure? We don't have-,"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

Dean got off the bed and went to the duffle. He opened it and scrounged around until he found what he was looking for. He return to the bed and climbed in beside Sam.

Sam looked confused until Dean opened his palm. Lube. A full tube. Sam's face changed and Dean could see the apprehension on it. "If it gets too much…"

Sam nodded and moved to be on all fours. "I want this, Dean."

"Yeah, okay." Dean moved to be behind his brother and slopped a large amount of the gel onto his palm. He slicked his fingers up and placed his pointer finger to the flat of Sam's entrance. "Ready?"

Sam's hands were white knuckling the pillow and he nodded.

"Okay, first knuckle." Dean pushed his finger inside, not even past his fingernail and Sam immediately tensed. "Relax. Take deep breaths."

Sam breathed in deeply, but Dean could tell every muscle was taut. "Sammy?"

"Keep going, it's okay."

Dean slid in a little further and for a moment Dean thought it was going to be fine, but then Sam began to tremble and Dean pulled out. "I can't do this."

"What? Yes you can. You have to. Please, Dean. Try again, I'll… I'll breathe through it. Just…" There was an air of desperation in Sam's voice. "Please, just do it."

Against his better judgment, Dean pushed his finger in again, this time going straight to the second knuckle. He thought about how slow didn't work for him, so maybe Sam was the same.

Sam hissed and scrunched his eyes. He was trembling again, but Dean persisted and finally after a moment or two, the muscle started to relax and comply with the invasion. "That's it. Just keep breathing." He pushed a little deeper and circled his finger. He was worried about Sam, but his body didn't seem to care as he found himself so rock hard, it actually hurt. "That's it, Sammy." Dean thought it would be okay, as he pushed a second finger in and Sam didn't react more violently.

Sam took in a deep breath.

"Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's okay."

Dean reached down and spread more lube over himself before moving to settle in behind Sam. "I'll take it slow," he said as he leaned over Sam and placed the blunt end of his cock to Sam's hole. He could feel Sam's body shiver at his touch and he second guessed himself and hesitated, but he was so hard that his upstairs brain didn't want to listen. He pushed in, just past the head.

Sam hissed again and Dean stopped. "Sammy?" He was breathing hard, trying to contain himself. Trying to stop himself from pushing in further and thrusting.

Sam said nothing. His muscle tightened around Dean's dick and he moaned into the pillow. Except… it wasn't a moan, it was more like a cry.

"Sammy?"

"Oh god, Dean," Sam sobbed. "I know it's you, but he was you and…"

"Oh shit, Sammy." Dean pulled all the way out and in one swift motion, laid down and pulled Sam to lie beside him. He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. "It's okay."

Sam was crying. Not sobs or whimpers, but full blown tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."

"Don't!" Dean said sharply. "Don't you dare say that. There's nothing to apologize for. You hear me?" He leaned back to see Sam's face. "Seriously, Sammy. It's fine."

"I want to.., I really do, but…" Sam gulped out the words and then buried his face into Dean's shoulder. "We have to. We have to."

"We don't have to do anything," Dean tried to sooth. "It's alright."

"No!" Sam pushed back and sat up. "It's not alright. It's so fucking far from alright, it's…" He was crying so hard that it bordered on hysteria.

"Sammy, calm down." Dean frowned, trying to hold back the tears he felt welling in his own eyes. "It's not important."

Okay… wrong thing to say. Sam no longer 'bordered'… "It is important," he screamed. "If we can't… If you won't… You're the only one that can fix me, Dean. Don't you get that?"

"Fix you?"

"Forget it." Sam started to move away, but Dean caught him by the arm.

"I'm not forgetting anything, Sammy. Not a damned thing."

"You don't understand." Sam stared at him.

"Don't I?" He shifted on the bed. "This isn't about fixing you or even about sex."

Sam rolled his eyes dismissively. "Oh really?"

"No!" Dean's face turned stern. "Because if that's all that this is about, then I want no part of it."

Sam seemed to understand the implications of his words and his breath hitched. "I didn't mean it like that."

Dean knew he didn't, but he was determined to make Sam understand. They had a life time to make things right, but it was love that would 'fix' things, not sex.

"Sammy…" Dean looked down. Cause when the hell did he turn into such a girl? "Sammy," he said again and made a conscious effort to look his brother in the eyes. "It's not the act. It's what the act means. That's the important part." Dean reached out and touched the side of Sam's face. "You understand?"

Sam smiled and nodded, wiping at his tears.

Dude…" He motioned between them. "You, me… We're probably the only two people on earth that could possibly understand what it's like. The things we've done. Had to do… We've both been to hell and back…" He grinned. "Literally. But please, don't let this first attempt screw with your brain. Make you think that us fucking when you're clearly not ready is gonna make it all okay."

Sam wiped his nose with the back of his hand and sucked in a calming breath. "First attempt?"

Dean grinned again. "Yeah… what? You think that I'm gonna just stop trying, now you've given me the go ahead? I've wanted it far too long to just give up." He moved closer and swiped his thumb down Sam's cheek. "What we tried… It was just too soon, is all. We'll get there. I promise." He leaned in to kiss Sam. No lust, no hunger, just utter devotion.

Sam broke the kiss and looked deeply into Dean's eyes, before looking down.

Dean followed his gaze and grinned widely. Sam's cock had taken a renewed interest.

"Do you think… I mean, is…"

"What?" Dean narrowed his eyes, but the smile was still on his lips.

"Is now too soon for attempt number two?"

Dean laughed, fully and out loud, before his face turned serious. "Honestly?" Dean touched his hand to the amulet around his neck. "Yeah… yeah I do."

Sam nodded slightly as a look of disappointment crossed his face. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.

"But…" Dean added and smirked. "I think we could find some sort of compromise." He kept his eyes firmly fixed on Sammy's as he dropped slowly to his knees in front of his brother.

If Michael had been right and there really was no random in the world… From the moment of conception… And when thy heart began to beat… God had planned this, knew he and Sam were going to happen… Maybe hell wasn't a foregone conclusion after all? In the long run, Dean supposed it didn't matter, didn't care. Sam was right…

It was, even after everything that they'd been through… 'worth it'.

Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

THE END

AN: Well folks, what did you think? I really hope you enjoyed it, cause it took me forever to write… LOL Please let me know? Comments are chocolate and I have a really sweet tooth. *hugs to you all* Z

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