The Pit, Chapter III, The Talk

Welcome to the third chapter of The Pit.I would humbly ask that you please fasten your seat belts and keep all hands, arms, and legs inside the internet at all times. Thank you.

Going pretty good so far…not bad at least…I hope. PLEASE TELL ME! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!

The Wincest has been sparked, but fear not!

Many References:

I've found the PERFECT SONG for this story! I'll Cover You 'B', from RENT. (Thank you, Jonathan Larson!)

NCIS Reference included. (Thank you Mr. Bellisario, wish I owned it like you…)

I don't own I Love Lucy either…

I wish I owned Dean and Sam, but alas, I am no Eric Kripke…


Sam finished the dishes and went to the living area. Grabbing dad's journal, he started sweeping throughout its pages and inserts for any guide on how to recuperate a person back from the dead. After about five minutes of searching, he knew it was a lost cause. Sam had been over the journal hundreds, if not thousands of times, and there was no mention of coming back to life, unless you're talking about some creatures of which they hunt, and even then it was an interesting occurrence. Even this instance went above and beyond their own father's abilities. Dean was just a normal guy with a tormented mind, twisted and warped by Lucifer's own right hand man. He was one of the only true looks into a true resurrection, something that has not been seen since antiquity. In other words, Sam was truly alone in helping Dean cope with his own emotions.

Dean walked out of their bedroom, wearing his favorite pair of jeans, a black shirt, and, for the first time in what seemed like ages, his usual grin of contentment.

"I think I'll head out to the store… Oh, and we need more 'thirty-two' ammo."

"Uuhh, okay. That sounds fine, I guess. There's some money underneath my-"

"Yeah Sammy, I know where you hide the stash. I'll be back in an hour."

Dean walked to the door and opened it just a crack.

"Love ya' Sam."

"Love you too, Dean…."

Dean walked out and closed the door behind him. Sam heard the twist of the deadbolt as he locked the door. And then a minute later, the sound of the Impala starting and revving out onto the main drag.

He's never done that before. What does he think… that we're a couple or something? That made Sam chuckle out loud. But still, it was weird for Dean to tell Sam that he loved him. Now Dean was wishing him well when he left to go shopping? How… cliché; Sam felt like he was in some weird parody of I Love Lucy.

Sam turned on the TV. He might as well relax in the calm before the storm; turn off before he had to be on constant watch. He started watching some show about some federal agents investigating the death of a naval general. It wasn't a bad show, but Sam could tell that this was a long series, considering that there were some inferences he didn't understand. It seemed as though one of the agents was new to the US, considering she kept marring some common phrases. Sam liked it though. One of them reminded him of the old Dean, with his cocky, but laid back attitude. It gave him a basis of where to start appealing to in Dean. Maybe he should start another prank war? It'd be easy with Dean gone. Just put some rubber rats in his bed and food and the shower and the impala when he wasn't looking. That would get Dean going again, right?

Sam decided against it. For all he knew, Alastair merged the fear of Hell into rats. Dean could melt into a bowl of jelly if he wasn't careful. He just had to go about this the conventional way; see what Dean needed the most, and then go from there. If Sam could identify Dean's worst fear and his chief complaint at the same time, then he's won half the battle. The trouble is coaxing it out of Dean. He's never been the open type, and Hell just made things worse… much worse. What could Sam do to crack Dean open?

Was it going to take a full on intervention… of sorts? Most likely. He needed to go in hard and fast. Blitz Dean into telling him what was wrong. If he were to drag it out, Dean would only get irritated and shut himself out. No, it had to be fast. Sam still at the same time, needed to be careful, as though Dean was a bomb that had two minutes left on the clock, but any wrong move and it (he) would explode.

So many variables.

An hour went by and Sam heard the Impala pull into the parking spot outside their door. Soon, Sam was helping his brother bring in eggs, beer, and twenty boxes of high grade .32mm ammunition, along with another box of empty virgin casings and tins full of gun powder. That meant both of them would be staying up late making salt rounds, since those were not exactly available on the open market.

Sam thought that would be a good time for the blitz. They'd both be sitting together with nothing else to talk about, so it seemed like a good idea.

"So, I think we should talk. I haven't told you everything yet, and I think there are some things you should know."

Damn it, Dean; always jumping the gun. Sam hadn't prepared himself completely for this yet.

"Okay. What's going on?"

Dean stopped opening the cartons of bullets and looked straight at Sam. He knew it was about to get very serious, fast.

"Can we go talk in the bedroom?"

"Um, sure."

All the perishables were put away, so they both filed into the bedroom and took the same positions as last night; Dean on his bed and Sam on his.

"I remembered one of the... times I had with Al. This one I think you should know about."

"Okay, what did he do in this one?"

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain…"

"You're the one who brought it up, Dean; so tell me what's goin' on."

Dean decided to start the conversation showing Sam he had promise of getting out of this, which was true if Sam accepted.

"Al showed me a way to get out of this… uummm, low spot; I guess if that's what you would want call it."

"Okay?"

Well, I…." Dean sighed in frustration. Why didn't he pay more attention in English? He couldn't find the right words to say what he felt without scaring Sammy away.

"Al showed me that I love you. I want to be with you, Sam, I want you to be mine."

Sam smirked and started to speak, but Dean cut him off.

"And, no, this isn't a joke. Look Al told me…."

Dean explained the entire experience to Sam, cleaning it up a bit so Sam wouldn't be too repulsed. Dean could tell his brother was… surprised… but at least he wasn't running out of the room, screaming at the top of his lungs his brother was gay. Which he wasn't, by the way.

After Dean's Spiel, Sam didn't know what to think or say…. It all seemed so, wrong… but at the same time, so right. His brother needed him. He needed the companionship. Dean wanted someone to get through this with, and if Dean wanted Sam by his side, then so be it. Sam didn't care if this was forced upon Dean, or even if this was Dean's twisted thoughts, crammed forcefully into his head because of Al. He loved his brother enough, so did Sam really have a choice? If he didn't follow through, it'd probably break Dean to pieces, and then blow up the bits into a molecular soup of Deanonium.

"Okay." Sam said blankly.

"You're okay with it?"

Dean wasn't expecting his brother to go through with it.

"You do realize what this means, right? That we're together… a couple, right?

"I get it."

"Okay."

Was there anything else to say? Any other questions Sam should be asking? He couldn't think of any. This was definitely something he was not prepared for, but then again prepared to do. He was willing to go this far with Dean, for Dean.

"So, what now?"

"I have no clue."

A minute of silence. Dean wasn't sure what he should do or how far he should go. What did he want to do?

Dean got out of bed, turned off the light, and came over to Sam's side of the room.

"Can I sleep here, then?"

Wow, Dean wanted to sleep with him? Sure, they'd done it before, but only when they had no choice. It was going to be crowded, considering the bed was just a Full, but Dean needed him, the closeness, the warmth.

Sam was able to squeak out, "Yeah."

So, Sam moved over to the extreme edge and let his brother squeeze in with him. Why did Sam suddenly feel like the big brother; letting his other half feel the security of someone so close?

He couldn't put his finger on it, nor did he have time, because right after Dean got into bed, he said, "Good night Sammy. I love you."

"I love you too Dean."


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Still looking for a Beta, by the way...