Chapter Three
The heavily perfumed air of Missouri's lounge was left behind and a warm breeze played across Dean's face. He opened his eyes and looked around. They'd come out behind Bill's under the hot sun. Anna told them she had to go and then she disappeared.
Dean made towards the kitchen door, but then he realized Sam wasn't behind him. He turned and saw Sam staring at something behind Dean that was obviously upsetting him. Dean turned and saw what had caught Sam's eyes, and he bit back a groan. It was Sam's grave, with its disturbed earth and roughly hewn cross marking the place. Dean stepped in front of Sam, hoping to break his view of the spot, but Sam stared right through him. His breaths were coming in short pants and his color had faded to a grey pallor.
"Sam!" Dean said harshly, gripping his shoulder. "It's okay."
Sam shook his head jerkily, still breathing in those hard pants.
Dean gripped his head and forcibly turned his face so he was looking at Dean instead of the grave.
"You're okay, Sam!" In that moment, he sounded just like John Winchester at his most commanding. It worked. Sam took a deep, shuddering breath and looked at Dean.
"I'm okay," he said, stepping back and breaking Dean's grip on him. "I'm fine."
That wasn't remotely true, Dean knew. Sam was far from okay, but he didn't want to make Sam feel worse so he pretended he believed.
"Okay. You coming in? Bobby's got to be losing his head since we ducked out on him, and Ellen and Jo will want to see you."
Sam looked like a deer in headlights but he spoke calmly enough. "I just need a minute. You go on in, I'll be right behind you."
"You sure?"
Sam nodded.
Dean rooted through his pockets and pulled out the Impala keys. "Here, you can hang in the car."
Sam almost snatched them from his hands, and Dean felt a certain sense of foreboding. Would Sam take these and drive off, leaving Dean behind? He had to trust his brother. Sam'd had no control over anything but the strength of own cries for the last century. The least Dean could do was allow him a little time now.
Reluctantly, he patted Sam's arm, trying not to notice how his muscles bunched at the contact, and made his way into the kitchen. He was instantly glad that Sam hadn't wanted to come inside. No one had cleaned up in there. The devil's trap was still uncovered on the floor with the chair and rope at the center. Sam didn't need to see the evidence of his own 'exorcism'. Kicking aside the chair as he passed, he walked through the bar and into the hall.
Ellen, Jo and Bobby were sitting around a table with a mug of coffee each in front of them. Excepting Ellen's presence—she had been sitting with his dead brother then—it was the same scene Dean had come back to after he'd tried and failed to make his own deal to save Sam. Then, he had been heavy with grief and desperation. Now, he was light with happiness but still with a certain sense of trepidation for the future.
As Bobby caught sight of him, he lurched to his feet. "Dean! Where the hell have you been? What were you thinking taking off like that? I was…" He trailed off as Dean stepped into the room and Sam failed to follow. "Where's Sam?"
"In the car," Dean said. "He needed a minute."
"How's he doing?" Jo asked.
Dean sighed and crossed the room. Sinking down into a chair, he rubbed his temples. "He's… okay."
"You don't sound too certain," Ellen observed.
Dean shook his head. "No, I am." He didn't want to share his fears for Sam's state of mind with them. He didn't want them judging Sam. "He's snapped out of it now. Anna came by and took us to see Missouri. She was able to mind meld with him and get through to him."
"Get through to him?" Bobby said. "That don't sound good."
"He's okay now," Dean said again, "but he wasn't. He didn't believe it, Bobby. He thought he was still in Hell."
Ellen sucked in a breath between her teeth. "That poor boy."
Dean nodded. "Yeah. I guess he thought it was another of the demons' tricks. That's gotta be why he attacked me. He thought I was a demon."
"But he's okay now?" Jo asked.
"He knows he's back." Dean didn't want to tell them about his reaction to his own grave. "And he's doing good. But he wanted a minute to himself."
Bobby sighed and scrubbed a hand through his beard. "That's understandable. God knows he's got enough to be thinking about."
"Did he say anything about what we did to him?" Jo asked tremulously. "The… exorcism?"
"No. I'm hoping he wasn't too aware of what was happening. He was pretty checked out at the time. If we're lucky, he'll have let it go over him."
Bobby huffed. "Yeah, 'cause when are we ever lucky?"
Dean didn't want to think about that. He hoped with all he had that when Sam had stopped struggling that had been him checking out of what was happening, but his pessimistic side doubted it. There was every chance that Sam had been completely aware as they'd tied him to a chair and chanted Latin over him. As if he hadn't already been through enough.
"He's taking a while," Ellen observed. "You think he's okay?"
Dean looked up at the clock above the bar and realized that too long had passed for Sam to just be needing a minute. He hadn't left, he would have heard the distinctive roar of the Impala's engine, but that wasn't entirely reassuring.
"I think I'll check on him," he said, getting to his feet. "Bobby, you mind if we go back to your place?"
Bobby looked surprised that he even asked. "Of course not. It's his home as much as anywhere." He handed Dean a set of keys.
"You don't think he's coming in?" Jo asked forlornly.
Dean looked apologetic. "I don't think so. He just needs a little time, Jo. As soon as he's up to it, we'll swing by and see you."
He made his way out of the bar through the kitchen, casting the devil's trap a scathing look as he passed, and out into the yard. He stopped for a minute as he crossed the threshold. Sam had been busy while he was inside. The grave, with its upturned earth, was now transformed. The clods of earth had been replaced in a puzzle of grass. It was still obvious that the ground had been disturbed, but it looked much better that it had. The cross bearing Sam's name was gone, and as Dean looked around, he saw the broken pieces of wood had been tossed into the bushes.
Dean sighed to himself as he imagined Sam doing all of this. He understood the impulse, the less evidence there was of what had happened the better, but he wished Sam had just let it be. It couldn't have been easy for him to do it.
He walked around the side of the bar to the parking lot. Sam was leaning against the car, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. As he heard Dean's footsteps on the gravel, he turned and unlocked the door and climbed in. Dean wondered why he had waited, but he didn't question it. If Sam wanted to talk, he'd talk.
He got in behind the wheel and waited as Sam settled in, scrunching himself down in the seat as much as his tall frame would allow.
"We're heading back to Bobby's," Dean said. "That okay?"
"Sure." Sam said quietly.
Dean turned the key and the engine rumbled to life. Dean smiled slightly as his eyes strayed to the side to see Sam sitting beside him. There was a lot wrong with the image, Sam's expression was dour and the radio was silent, but it felt good to be back on the road with his brother.
He wished Sam would say something, let Dean know what he was thinking, but he didn't know how to say that without sounding like he was pushing. Sam needed space and time to think, he knew that. He had felt the same after he'd got back. He'd had time to process as he'd walked the miles from the forest to the fill up joint, and then the hours of driving to Bobby's. Sam just needed the same. Not only had he been sprung from Hell and had to dig his way out of his grave, he'd had his friends and family essentially attack him, thinking he was a demon. It was a lot to come to terms with.
They drove in silence for about half an hour before Sam cleared his throat. "So, angels, huh. Is that for real?"
"Yeah, angels," Dean said, relieved Sam was talking. "Took me a while to wrap my head around the idea of them too."
"That Anna, she was really an angel?"
"Kinda. She's an angel but she's fallen. She like a rogue angel. She's okay though. Unlike some of them."
He chanced a glance sideways and saw Sam's brow was scrunched with confusion.
"I've only met a few, and one of them, Uriel, was a prize dick. He's dead now. Anna killed him. There's this other one, Castiel…"
"He was the one that came to Bill's before, the one that said he saved me?"
Dean cursed quietly. He had hoped Sam would have missed that appearance, seeing as he'd been checked out at the time. Did that mean Sam had been aware for all of it? Little though he wanted to know that answer, he asked, "So, you remember that, huh?"
"Yeah," Sam said heavily. "I remember."
"Sammy, I'm so sorry," he said. "We'd never have done that to you if we'd known."
Sam shrugged. "Makes sense. People don't just climb out of their own graves. You had to think I was something messed up."
"It wasn't just that. We'd been told months ago that you were a demon now. We thought they'd hooked you up with your old meat suit."
"Who told you that?" Sam asked curiously.
"Lilith and Alastair," Dean said. "Alastair is—"
"I know who Alastair is," Sam said darkly. "He would… I would see him sometimes when Lilith was gone."
Dean's heart sank. Even when Lilith was out, breaking seals, Sam hadn't had a moment's peace. "They were just screwing with us," he said. "But they told us you were back as a demon."
"That takes centuries," Sam said dully.
"They said you had something of a head start…"
Sam was silent for a long moment and then he sighed. "Demon blood."
"You knew?" Though he tried to hide it, Dean's question came out accusatory. He was surprised that Sam had known about it but had never told Dean. He also noted that Chuck had omitted that from the books.
"Since Cold Oak," Sam said. "I told you Yellow-Eyes showed me stuff; that was part of it."
"Yeah, well Cas took me bouncing through time, and he showed me that night."
"Time travel, huh," Sam said. "That's some pretty impressive friends you've made yourself, Dean."
"I wouldn't call them friends," Dean said. "Except Cas maybe. Though if it came down to it, I'm pretty sure he'd chose orders over me. They're like soldiers, see? Not remotely the fluffy, harp carrying cherubs you were thinking of. There was this one hunt, a badass demon, and Uriel was all gung-ho about taking out the town to stop it. He acted like it was a damn vacation for him."
Sam looked across at him. "That kinda sucks. All this time I'd been thinking I was praying to something greater than me, but you're telling me they're just as corrupt as humans."
Dean could almost feel the weight of Sam's disappointment. He felt like a dick. After everything Sam had been through, he had now lost his faith, too.
"Don't give up on it, Sam. I know the angels are feathered dicks, but that doesn't mean the God thing is worthless. For all we know, God hates them, too. They did at least one thing right. They saved you."
"Yeah, they saved me."
Dean wondered whether he should tell Sam they were going to save him too before Sam made the deal. He decided against it. Sam didn't need to think his century of Hell had been for nothing. It hadn't been nothing. It had been the most incredible thing anyone had ever done for Dean.
Sam scooted impossibly lower in his seat and leaned his head against the window. He looked deep in thought, so Dean stayed quiet. Though he had a hundred questions for Sam, he let his brother think. There would be plenty of time to talk later. His thoughts turned to the more negative aspects of the last couple of days, namely Lucifer. How was he supposed to tell his brother what he'd done? Sam had enough to face, being brought back the way he had; he didn't need to hear what a screw up Dean had made of his life alone. They would come up with a plan for Lucifer, together, when Sam was ready. Until then, he would just focus on helping his brother through it all.
"You okay, Dean?" Sam asked softly.
Dean started and raked a hand over his face. "Yeah, I'm fine. You okay?"
Sam was silent for so long that Dean turned his eyes from the road and glanced at his brother.
"No," Sam said eventually. "I'm really not."
"You want to talk about it?"
Sam shook his head. "No. Do you?"
Dean huffed a laugh. "I've got nothing to talk about, Sammy. You're back. We're all good."
He couldn't tell him the truth, Sam had already been through too much for any one person to deal with. He just wanted to enjoy the fact his brother was back for a while before dealing with everything else.
"Okay, Dean," Sam said quietly. "We'll talk when you're ready."
Dean knew with that simple sentence that he hadn't fooled Sam a bit; he knew there was something seriously wrong, but he wasn't pushing for more, for which Dean was grateful. He just wanted his brother to have a couple of day's peace before he was thrown into the mess Dean had created. Just a couple of days. Was that too much to ask for?
Sam knew Dean was hiding something, and he guessed it was something big, but he didn't push for more. He knew he should, but he wasn't ready. All he seemed capable of doing was sitting quiet in his side of the car and watching the scenery rushing past.
They were heading to Bobby's place, and sooner or later, Bobby would meet them there, and Sam would have to face him. He wasn't quite ready for that, but he would be. He just needed a little time.
Everything was overwhelming him. He hadn't been able to go into Bill's to see Ellen and Jo. He'd known he should, he owed them more than he could ever repay, but he hadn't been able to force himself inside. Seeing his own grave had seemed to steal the last of his reserves of courage from him. He'd pieced it back together as best he could and destroyed the marker, but he hadn't been able to wipe the image from his mind.
What he wanted now, more than anything, was to curl up in bed and hide from the world for a few days, or months maybe.
They eventually came to Sioux Falls. Dean slowed the car as they came onto Bobby's road, and Sam looked around. He hadn't been here for… he didn't know how long. He had no idea how long he'd been in the pit. He only knew it felt like forever.
They drove under the wrought iron arch that proclaimed Singer's Salvage and up to the house. It didn't look like anything had changed from the outside, and Sam doubted anything inside would be different either. Dean pulled the car to a stop and climbed out. Sam stayed frozen in his seat for a moment, intimidated by the memories of the last time he was here. The echoing emotions of that day threatened to swamp him for a moment. He had been out of his mind with grief then, fresh from burying his brother; he didn't feel like much had changed except now his emotions were rolling for another reason.
Dean stuck his head in the open car door. "You coming in?"
Sam nodded and climbed out of the car, looking at his brother and remembering that it was over. He'd saved him. He was back now and so was Sam.
Dean unlocked the door and they walked in. Nothing had changed inside. It was all exactly as he'd last seen it. It was reassuring that nothing had changed within the house. Sam almost felt like the same man he'd been when this was the closest thing to home they knew, before Dean had been ripped apart by hellhounds and dragged to Hell, before Sam had made his own deal.
Dean eyed him as he looked around. "You want anything? You must be starving. I know I was when I… You know."
Sam shook his head. "I'm fine." He was hungry and thirsty, but most of all he was overwhelmed. "I am tired, though," he lied.
"Well, your bed's where you left it. You go get some sleep."
Sam smiled. "Thanks, Dean."
He felt Dean's pat on his back as he walked past him and made his way up the stairs and he tried not to flinch. When he got to the bedroom he and Dean usually shared when they were at Bobby's, he closed the door and flopped down onto the too small bed. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he curled in on himself and hid his face in his face in his hands.
He knew he should be downstairs, talking with Dean and waiting for Bobby. He should be untangling whatever Dean was hiding from him. But he needed just a minute to himself.
This chapter was a little light on the action, I know, but it was necessary to set the scene for the next where there will be a little more drama. Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter. I think I replied to you all individually, but if I missed you, I apologize.
Until next time…
CoM x