Disclaimer: (which I forgot in chapter 1) I do not own Supernatural or NCIS.
*~.~*
Neither of them were sure how long they'd stood there; Dean holding onto Tony as if he were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world right then, as he let out all of the hurt he'd forced himself to hold in when driving. He needed to stay alive, after all. Wrecking the car because his eyes were swelled shut from crying would technically have been breaking his promise to Sam.
Dean couldn't remember ever exposing so much of his inner turmoil to anyone before in his life. Then again, he couldn't remember ever feeling so absolutely devastated either. That, and he hadn't slept. Not a wink. After saying goodbye to Bobby, he'd hit the road. He stopped once and tried like mad to sleep. But every time he'd gotten close, he'd remember, "Sammy's dead." His eyes would spring open, accompanied by a burning sensation in his chest. He'd figured that that's how it felt when your heart was tearing apart.
Dean couldn't help but to feel a little bad about leaving Bobby. It wasn't like this hadn't affected the old man, too, after all. He didn't need to second-rate Bobby's own pain, and he wasn't really up for returning any comfort. That wouldn't have even been possible.
It was different for Bobby, he supposed. Dean had always been Bobby's favorite. He had right to be. Everything Dean had ever known or done had been for Sam. Sam was covered in the 'favorite' category. It was Dean's. But Bobby loved Dean for that; for everything the kid had managed to do his entire life, and especially those things he shouldn't have had to do. Dean had never complained. He loved his little brother, and to Dean there was nothing else more important in the whole wide world. So of course Bobby was worried about Dean. Part of him had jumped right into that pit with his little brother.
Dean, however, wasn't ready for Bobby's...whatever he'd had planned for him. And Bobby wouldn't be able to understand the promise Dean had made to Sam. That's why he had to leave. He would never be out of the business if he stuck around Bobby's. Though it made him feel a little selfish leaving the man to suffer his own grief on his own, Dean knew that he wouldn't be able to offer him what he needed. He was barely managing his own.
When Dean felt his eyes go dry, presumably having run out of tears finally, standing still plastered together with Tony, he realized how pathetic he must seem. He wondered how long he'd been clinging to the other man as he finally began to pull away. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Don't already start breakin' Gibbs' rules," Tony replied, and Dean looked up to see him wiping tears from his own face. It made Dean realize that Tony really did care about Sam. Or maybe that he really cared about Dean. Perhaps both. Or maybe Dean smelled bad, and Tony's eyes were watering...
"Oh yeah," Dean managed a small smile. "I forgot about those rules."
"You don't have any reason to apologize, anyway," Tony told him and looked the younger man over, noting how exhausted he seemed overall. He grabbed Dean's arm, "Come sit down. You look tired," he said as he guided him to the living room.
As the two of them entered, they got an idea of how long they must have been standing there in the foyer. Gibbs had opted against the coffee after what had happened, and instead was pouring three glasses halfway with bourbon. Good thing it's not a school night, Tony thought.
As Gibbs capped the bottle, he met Tony's eyes, then Dean's. "Figured you're probably exhausted from your drive. This might help you get some sleep, instead of us forcing you to stay up."
"Doesn't take much forcing lately," Dean gave him a small smile as he sat down on the couch. Tony took the spot on the other end of it while Gibbs sat in the chair across from them. Dean gratefully picked up the glass that was slid in his direction.
"Where'd you drive in from?" Gibbs asked, trying to make some direction into conversation without demanding any information that Dean might not be ready to talk about.
"Lawrence," he replied. "Kansas," he added. "About thirteen hours out."
"You drive straight through?" Gibbs asked as the younger man took a long swig from his glass.
"Stopped to try and get some shut-eye some time in the night," he told him. "Least I got my eyes off asphalt for a good while."
"When," Tony cleared his raspy throat, "When did you start heading this way?"
"Uh," Dean had to think about that for a moment. Everything had seemed so surreal. "Yesterday," he concluded. "Just a little bit after..." he didn't need to finish the sentence for them to understand what he meant.
"What happened, Dean?" Gibbs asked, hoping he wasn't pushing him.
Dean met his eyes for a moment, then looked somewhere in the air between them. "It's kind of a long story," he told him.
"Well, if you're up to it," Gibbs watched as Dean's eyes met his again, "The way I figure, it's been too damn long since we've talked. Got a hell of a lot of catching up to do. Might as well start somewhere."
"I'm real sorry we lost touch," Dean said sincerely. "Things just got so crazy after we left here."
"Things got crazy here, too," Tony told him. "Not the same kind of crazy, I'm guessing. But things were a bit...intense. That's for sure."
"Point is," Gibbs chimed in, "It wasn't anyone's fault. Took all of us to lose touch."
"Yeah," Tony agreed, and looked back to Dean. "But we're real glad you called today. Just sorry for whatever the story is behind it."
Dean looked at him with a ghost of a smile on his lips, before downing the rest of his drink, then setting it back down on the coffee table. "The story behind it is gonna require another glass of that stuff," he said, sliding his glass toward Gibbs.
So, Dean went about telling the long story from the beginning; from the time they'd parted ways. He told them how the demon, Ruby, had been feeding Sam with lies and demon-blood. He told them how he and Sam were destined to be the perfect vessels; he for the archangel, Michael. Sam for Lucifer. He told them how he'd found out that his trip to Hell and the things that happened there caused him to break the very first seal that would start the rest of them going in order to free Lucifer from the cage. How no matter how fast they tried to stop them from breaking, they couldn't be fast enough. How Ruby had brainwashed Sam to the point that he'd left Dean, and was tricked into breaking that final seal.
Dean told his friends how they'd fought to say no to their vessels; how they'd been bribed, tormented, tortured, blackmailed, and still refused. This, after he told them what saying yes would bring.
He told them about Sam's insane plan to say yes to Lucifer; how he'd take control and jump into the pit, effectively stopping the plans they'd been forcibly laid down to fate with. He told them how he told Sam he was out of his mind.
He told them how they had to hunt down the Four Horsemen, and how Death actually made a deal with him. But the deal required him to agree to Sam's plan. He told them how Sam got so juiced up with demon-blood in order to attempt to accomplish this, that it actually scared the crap out of him. But that it didn't work; Lucifer had control from the start, and Dean was sure the plan had failed...
"So I went to the big show-down," Dean told them. "I wasn't about to let Sammy die alone, after all. Cas and Bobby showed up outta no where. Gave me the five minutes I wanted to make one last attempt to reach Sam, by Molotov-ing Michael. Sorry...that's probably not a word," he paused. "Anyway, Lucifer got pissed. After killing Cas and Bobby, somewhere in between beating the pulp out of me, somehow Sam got control. I don't know how. But he did. And he opened the gate...and he looked at me like he was sayin' goodbye, ya know?" his voice cracked a bit as he momentarily met their eyes. "I was so proud of him... But I was also so...angry, and it was killing me. All I could do was sit there tryin' like hell to stay conscious. Michael showed back up and tried to stop him from jumping. Part of me wanted to stop him, myself. I didn't wanna lose 'im," he looked down at his lap, trying to remain in control of his emotions. "He just grabbed onto Michael and pulled him down with him. Then he was just...gone."
The room was silent for a long moment; Tony and Gibbs trying to process all the information Dean had just given them, and Dean trying to reign in the insistent pit in his stomach that kept screaming for him to just start sobbing again.
Once he felt he'd contained himself, he looked up. "Cas came back somehow, by the way. Brought Bobby back." Then after another long moment, he continued. "Sam saved the world," he smiled, sadly.
"You both did," Gibbs said.
"Yeah," Dean smirked, looking down at his once-again empty glass. "Saved the world...and lost it too," he said quietly. But they heard him. And they knew exactly what he meant.
"Hey," Tony moved a little closer and put a hand on Dean's shoulder, causing Dean to look up at him with exhausted, drooping eyelids. "We may not be much," he glanced briefly at Gibbs, "But you've got us, ya know?"
Dean gave him an appreciative, yet sad smile, and looked over at Gibbs. "Sam...before he said yes, he made me promise that if it worked, I'd give up hunting; live a normal life. Normal job and all. Made me promise not to try and find a way or make a deal to get him out... Soon as I got in the car I just...I couldn't think of anything. I just drove, ya know?" he glanced at Tony before looking down at his lap. "Couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather go..."
He started to waver a bit where he sat, and Tony held a bit tighter to his shoulder. "Hey, man. You're wiped out. Let's show you to the guest room, huh?"
"M'kay," Dean replied, possibly only half aware. As Tony helped him up, he took the glass from him and set it down on the table. "That's some mighty strong bourbon, Gibbs," Dean commented. "'s got some kick."
"Supposed to sip this stuff," Gibbs retorted, judging whether or not he'd need to help Tony in getting Dean up the hall.
"Just kinda hit me," he smirked a bit. Tony started leading him away from the living room. "Wait," Dean stopped them. "The door locked?" he asked.
"Will be," Gibbs answered.
"Okay," he resumed his pace toward the room. Once they entered the guest room, Tony turned on the light and walked over to the bed to pull back the covers. But Dean stood in the doorway, allowing a memory to seep into his mind.
The room looked exactly as it had three years ago. He remembered the restless night when Sam was recovering from the poisonous bite he'd received from McGee's god-possessed body. It had been frightening, to say the least, to watch his brother go through that. Dean couldn't help but to imagine what his little brother was enduring right now in the pit...
"Hey," Tony was suddenly in front of him. "You okay?"
"Yeah," he replied, giving him a slight smile. "Jus' tired. You staying here?"
"Yeah. Gonna crash on the couch tonight. We're not on call this weekend, which is pretty rare. So, we'll do something tomorrow after you're rested up, okay?"
"Sure. Thanks," he replied, then headed toward the bed.
"G'night, Dean," Tony said.
"Night, Tony. Thanks again," he glanced at him before the door was pulled most of the way closed. Dean kicked off his shoes, not even bothering to get any more undressed before climbing into bed. He pulled the blanket up to his chest, turned over and clicked off the light, then curled up on his side. The memory of being there with Sam was fresh in his mind. He missed him. God he missed him...
Dean pulled one of the pillows to his chest and held onto it as his eyes stung with new tears. He silently cried until succumbing to the inevitable, but merciful unconsciousness...
TBC...
