Hello to everyone out there! I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I would love to hear what you think if you are so inclined to tell me.. :) Thanks for reading!
Cas kneels beside the fallen hunter and places a light touch on his brow. There is a sound in the air so odd, so out of place that it can only be attributed to the unnatural reconstruction of broken bones. There is a sharp intake of breath and Bobby's eyes fly open, lined with confusion.
"Bobby, are you repaired?"
"Uh, repaired? Sure, I guess. One hell of a headache but yeah." Pause. Wait. Cas? "But, Cas? I thought. Didn't you? What?" He remembers his confrontation with Sam. Well, with Lucifer, and then nothing. Just darkness until this moment. He scans the area the best he can from his vantage point on the ground and when he spots nothing, no sign of Sam or Dean, the knot in his stomach, his instinct, tells him things are bad.
"Where? Cas? Where are Sam and Dean?" He braces himself for the worst as intense blue eyes look directly at him.
"Sam is gone, he is in the cage. With Lucifer and Michael."
Damn his instincts, he so badly wanted them to be wrong, just this once. "And Dean?"
"Dean is alive but badly wounded."
The older hunter needs a moment to absorb the angel's words. The brothers. Somehow, some way, they did it. They stopped the devil. Stopped the apocalypse. But at such a cost. Bobby knew, just like the brothers did. It had to be done. To save humanity. But still. Sam. Sam is in the cage. Bobby can not suppress the shudder that rips through him. Sam. Somehow he beat the devil and stuffed him back in the box. He has saved them all. Bobby feels his eyes well up at the thought of the young Winchester facing the wrath of Lucifer. The strength it must have taken to break the hold, if only just long enough to send him back to Hell. And now Sam is trapped there. For eternity.
Bobby closes his eyes, tries to shake away the thoughts, the images from his mind. He needs to focus, to concentrate of what it is that he can control at this moment. He will grieve for Sam, for the man he considered his son, his own flesh and blood. But, right now, he needs to get to Dean. He can not begin to imagine what state Sam's big brother is in. Dean must have watched the whole scene unfold. He bore witness to his own brother's death. His sacrifice. Not good. And to top it off he has been wounded, by Lucifer ,as he wore the face and body of Sam. The sound of Cas' voice brings him out of his mind and back to the task at hand.
"Dean did not appear to want my help. He seemed confused and unsure. Bobby, he moved away from me when I tried to heal him. He insisted that I brought you back first."
Bobby chuckles at the words. Of course, how absolutely typical. Dumb ass Dean, never, ever looking after his own needs first. "Yeah, that sounds like our Dean. Everyone else is more important than him. Idjit. Help me up Cas." As Bobby slowly rises to his feet with the angel's assistance his words continue. "I gotta get to him. He is all kinds of hurtin' right now and if I know him, and I do, he is busy placing the blame squarely on his own shoulders and if he watched, if he witnessed Sam toss himself into the pit, then he knows that his brother is truly gone. And that would have messed up his head. Big time."
"Yes, I agree. It appeared to me as though he has no interest in being saved."
"Well, we'll see about that. Stubborn ass probably thinks he doesn't deserve to live. And that attitude is starting to grate on my nerves. He is gonna change that tune of his once I give him a good talking to. Now where's he at?"
"Dean?" The voice, he thinks it's familiar but he can't be sure. It seems to be miles away, a whisper that has floated on the breeze and somehow filtered its way into his ears. He hurts, everywhere, and as hard as he tries he can not place the voice. But, it has to be Sammy. Sam has come to help him cuz he knows he is in bad shape. He can't figure out where he is or what has landed him here, in agony, on the ground. As every breath he takes in ignites a fiery torrent of pain, and is accompanied by a rattling sound in his chest, Dean comes to the conclusion that he is in serious trouble. But, it's okay, Sam is here. Sammy will make it better, he will fix him up like he always does. "Sammy, that you, what happened bro?"
"DEAN?" It's louder now, that voice, right beside his ear. As he feels a hand lay itself upon his shoulder, he knows. It is not Sam. It seems to take an enormous amount of effort for Dean to open his eyes. Well, huh, maybe just one eye. Yup, in rough shape, only one eye works. No, not Sam. Bobby. Well that's good right? But what? That's weird. Bobby looks worried. Concerned. Sad?
Oh no. Shit. No! Events crash and tumble and cut their way through his brain. Images. Of Lucifer. Of Sam. Of Cas, dead. Of Bobby, dead. Of Adam. Of Michael. Of the beating that he took while staring into the face of his brother. Of the words that he repeated over and over again to try and break through to him. To tell him that he is not alone. 'Sammy, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. It's okay Sammy. It's okay. I'm not going to leave you.'
It's too much. He moans aloud, his brain, his heart unable to contain the assault of those images. And they don't stop. They keep on coming. To torture him. The moment when Sam, his Sammy, came back to him. He looked so scared. Terrified. But even so, his brother tried to make Dean feel better. Make him realize that they can still win. Dean can still hear his voice, Sammy's voice, echo through him. 'It's okay Dean. I've got him. It's gonna be okay.' How he looked on in horror, unable to move, unable to speak, at the moment when he realized that Sam was going to dive into the pit. To save the world, to save everyone, to save him, from Lucifer. And he did it, his little brother did it, despite the fact that he would be doomed for eternity, trapped in the cage with pure evil. Sammy, his baby brother, willingly sent himself into the eye of Hell itself.
Dean can't help himself, he lets out a sorrowful cry, of pain, of despair, of anguish beyond any he has ever felt before. He wants to die. He can not bear to live with the knowledge. His brother. His reason for being. The one he promised to protect, to save, is gone. He wishes his damn body would just hurry the hell up and let go, stop it all. He curls in on himself and feels the blood gurgle up from his torn apart insides, his reflexes ejecting the fluid in rapid succession, accentuated by a series of ragged and pain inducing coughs.
"Take it easy Dean. Take it easy son. It's time for our friendly neighbourhood angel here to fix you up."
"Nnn..." Cough. "Nnnn..." Cough. "No." He squirms, he scratches at the earth, he tucks his head into the dirt and moans against the raging fire in his soul. The empty pit that used to contain his heart. "Just...leave me... don't...wanna...can't... please..."
Bobby is stunned. Dean Winchester. Once so full of piss and vinegar, always the first to throw caution to the wind, ready to kick ass and take names at the drop of a hat, is broken. Reduced to the empty shell that lays at his feet. His very soul is gone, thrown into the pit along with his brother. Dean Winchester has just laid it out in no uncertain terms, with crystal clarity. He does not want to be saved. Does not want to live.
Well, not on his watch damn it. Bobby refuses. He will not lose both of the boys. It is gonna hurt and Bobby knows it, but he has to do it, has to bring out the big guns. To try and get some fire back into Dean's eyes, into his heart. He might hate him, but Bobby doesn't care, he will not let the kid just drift away. He will not let him drown alone in misery. So, Bobby takes aim, inhales a deep breath and fires.
"This ain't up for discussion! You do not get a choice here. I know you are hurting boy but you do not get to check out. You do not get to take the easy road. I will not let you die. I can't! No more death, no more! Not after all of this. Not after everything that has happened." Pause. "Sam did not sacrifice himself just for you to lay down and give up!"
Dean tries. He tries to give Bobby his best, patent pending death glare but he can't even tell if his eyes are still open. He can't see anything. He can't focus on anything. He can't do anything. He can't feel anything. His body is numb and his chest is hollow. His heart has been ripped out, it no longer beats, it no longer sustains and supports him. The emptiness is killing him. And damn Bobby for denying him the death that he craves.
"Here are your options Dean. One, you let Cas work his magic on you and then you can throw punches and scream and kick and do whatever else you need to do. Or two, you lay there in agony, wait to die and we let you, and then I tell Cas to work his magic on you, you come back, then you can throw punches and scream and kick and do whatever else you need to do." Pause. "So, which one is it gonna be?"
TBC...