Around the same time:
The giggling should have warned her. Giggles anytime when dealing with a Winchester just was not a good thing, especially when the Winchester in question had the body of a full grown man but the mind set of a sick pre-teen hyped on way to much sugar.
"What the bloody hell did you give him in that medication?" she demanded of the medic that worked for her. "I asked you to watch Sam for twenty minutes or less while I argued with your other boss and tried to get Jack to answer his damn phone, now look at him!"
Both Morgan Harrison and Stanley Blackwell looked on as Sam, ignoring the still infected wounds, bruises, swollen face and fever, moved around the front room of the cabin Morgan had moved them to like a restless child looking for trouble.
She had come in from talking on the phone after Sam had spoken to his brother to find him climbing the sofa like he had as a kid.
"He hasn't had the meds yet," Stan grumbled, wincing as a chair fell over in Sam's haste to look out the window again. "He melted all the damn popsicles you bought for him and drank the crap along with three cups of sugar that he added to it."
"Bloody hell," she groaned, rubbing the migraine that was slowly building.
A sick Sam had never been fun to handle. A sick, hurt, restless Sam who'd had too much sugar of any kind was just out of control and that had been for both her and Dean to handle. Now in this state, she could tell it would be ten times as bad.
"Sammy, get back on the couch or go lie down. You're still too warm to be climbing on stuff," she tried to use the same tone she had once but being hyper and in the mind-set of an excited twelve year old she suspected the reply wouldn't be good.
Yep, full on Sammy bitch-face hit right on cue and Morgan would have sworn the 6'4" Sam actually stomped his feet.
"No, Dean said he'd be home soon and I wanna see him," his lip jutted out and then just as quick he was back scooting between windows before his hand lifted for the curtain.
"Uh-huh, climb that curtain and you've had it, Sammy," Morgan warned, hearing Stan draw in a breath. "You're a…big boy now and can't go climbing things."
Another look but Sam moved away from the curtain, his hazel eyes still weren't clear as they roamed the cabin. "This is like the cabin we were in when Dean was hurt after I'd run away," he shifted weak puppy dog eyes on Morgan since he knew they normally worked. "If it snowed, we could build a snowman like before and you and Dean could cuddle like…"
"Sam, shut up." Morgan closed her eyes and held a hand up to stop the smirk on her medic's face. "Don't say it, Stan."
"I'm wondering what else happened that time that you didn't bother to tell Kel," the medic coughed, hearing something from outside and recognizing the aftereffects of Jack's power. "You planning on staying to see him or are we leaving cause we're outta time."
Morgan sighed, unsure of what action was best. On the one hand, she wasn't ready to deal with Dean since he still didn't know the reason she left the last time and he needed to focus on his brother. A sudden sound from the bedroom had her whirling and remembering the reason to stay.
After being apart for so long, she wasn't certain Dean could handle this version of his brother on his own right away.
"Hell, I'm not sure I can handle him," she muttered, hearing a louder crash and getting to the bedroom in time to see the bed fall apart. "Sam!"
The double bed which had been rather study for normal cases was now in pieces when an adult man of Sam's size and weight decided to bide his nervous time jumping on it. Now both the mattress and Sam sat on the floor and a set of watery eyes gazed up at Morgan.
"Bed broke," he proclaimed pitifully, motioning around him. "Stupid bed."
Morgan struggled between laughing and screaming after making sure he hadn't pulled any stitches and leaned back to gaze at him, a hand pushing bangs back off his forehead and feeling warmth. "I told you to lie down in the bed, not jump on it."
"I want Dean!" he yelled, crossing his arms in a tired motion when a voice from the door took them both by surprise.
"I guess the listening to Morgan when I'm not around part flew out the window?" Dean mused from where he leaned as casually as possible in the doorframe, taking in the scene as if were normal. "What's the rules about jumping on the beds, Sammy?"
Morgan's breath had caught at the voice but Sam surged to he feet with all his normal agility and started to launch himself at his brother has he had once but already seeing the trouble in that plan, she went to reach out a hand to latch on. "Sam, wait…"
"Whoa, kiddo," Dean was thinking the same thing as he placed his hands on his brother's shoulders to stop him and didn't miss the flash of confusion and hurt in the younger Winchester's eyes.
"You hurt, Dean?" Sam asked, his mind not understanding why his brother was holding back unless he was hurt. He knew that Dean tended to do that so as to not worry him.
Seeing a flash of dark emotion in the older Winchester's eyes, Morgan broke in. "Sammy, Dean's still got bruises from before and according to Jack he got tossed around by a vengeful spirit so how about grabbing the first aid kit from the kitchen and setting it up out front."
That suggestion was welcomed by a bright smile as Sam hurried to find the kit which Stan or Jack had better had moved to give her more time to fill his brother in.
"Pay attention, he thinks he's twelve and your sixteen again. His fever has dropped back down to 101.7 but spikes when he gets upset or dreams. He has a few cracked ribs, a mild concussion, and plenty of bruises from those bleedin' hunters who nailed him. His back is infected from wounds he must have gotten from when he was still with you…" she paused to shift a look up. "Great job of watching our Sammy by the way, genuis."
It had been close to fifteen years since she had seen Dean Winchester face to face, ignoring the times she'd checked up on him from a distance, and she had to admit time had been more than kind. The tall, lean, rugged teenager had grown up into a tall rugged man but there was a dark distance in his eyes that hadn't been there before. She hoped he lost that before dealing with his brother.
Not letting on that he'd been going through his own emotional flashback at seeing the young woman who had once been so close to him and his brother, Dean let a smirk slowly form. "I think you can blame the demon bitch for most of that."
"Oh, I blame Ruby for plenty but you get a good portion of it too since you damn well know that Sam does not respond well to threats, bullying or commands. Trying to force him away from her was just like waving a red flag screaming 'go to her'," she replied, starting to push up from the floor when a hand was suddenly held out to her.
"I was kind of dealing with crap right then so I thought he could figure out how much dealing with a demon who encouraged him to suck down demon blood and use his powers was a bad plan," he countered, moving his hand in an impatient motion. "If he's in this shape, how much have you slept? You'd hover over him just to be sure he was alright."
Considering for a moment, Morgan finally placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her up but the years apart didn't change one thing. She knew Dean Winchester and knew exactly what he'd be planning so with a quick move she shifted one foot behind his ankle and while still holding onto his hand soon had him down on the floor.
"De ja vu much?" she knew that would've brought back how they'd first met minus the dark, rainy cemetery, a knife and an enraged zombie. "Suck it up, bury the crap you're holding over him and be his big brother again, Dean because Sammy's still the same inside once you see past the walls he's built up."
Not happy with being taken down…again by Morgan, Dean considered a comeback when he caught the warning look in her blue eyes but also something else. Concern. That and Sam's puppy dog look always made him back down.
Before he could comment or anything else could be said, Sam's voice was heard from the front room. "Hey! Where are you two?" he demanded with all the curiosity that he had as a child then he giggled. "Dean, Bobby told you that if he caught you trying to kiss Morgan again that he'd tan your…"
"Yeah, he's twelve again," the elder Winchester groaned while seeing Morgan wince and he climbed to his feet. "Sammy, what I tell you about saying stuff that embarrasses Morgan?" he chided gently, stepping into the main room to see his brother had laid out the full first aid kit.
Dean took a long moment to examine his brother and didn't like what he was seeing. Sam's hazel eyes still looked cloudy, there was a nice purplish bruise on his forehead, his one eye was swelled and his lip was busted. He could tell by the way he moved where other wounds were but then he recalled something.
"Sammy, let me see your back?" he asked, being cautious as he sat down next to his brother on the sofa and caught the tension. "Morgan said your back was hurting you so let me check it out."
Something made Sam hesitate. He hadn't wanted anyone, not even Morgan, touching his back but Dean was here now and his brother always looked at his wounds so carefully Sam slowly eased his heavy hoodie up to show his back.
Morgan motioned Stan to leave while catching that Jack had decided to remain but at a distance while she moved to the back of the sofa. She knew the moment when Dean found the infected cuts and mess of welts on his back because his face twitched like it usually would when Sam was hurt.
Keeping a hand on his little brother's shoulder, Dean slowly moved his fingers over the red and obviously painful wounds. Thinking back, he struggled to recall when or how he could have gotten these. "Sam, how'd you…"
"Why were you gone so long, Dean?" as if knowing what was coming, Sam quickly changed the subject his hand moving through his hair nervously and the tell-tale signs were there. He was scared but not sure why. "You said you wouldn't leave again after…"
Letting the shirt drop, Dean leaned back to try to put his brother at ease and in doing so caught Morgan's gaze. "The hunt…took longer than I thought, Sammy." he replied slowly while he watched as their friend slowly sat on his brother's other side. It was an unspoken act that they had used when Sam had been younger to offer him security when he was on edge. "If I would've known that someone would attack you I wouldn't have left besides…Morgan was with you."
Shooting him a warning glare, the British woman laid a hand on Sam's shoulder and felt it shaking. "Sammy, it's safe now. You're safe. No one, hunter, Angel or Demon will hurt you because Dean's with you. You know that."
There was a flash of something briefly in Sam's eyes but it vanished as his head shook. "No cause when Dad comes back he'll make Morgan leave again…just like he did before and I'll still be alone cause I don't want…Dad to…"
"Sam?" Morgan was frowning because this Sam thought he was twelve and his Dad was still alive. Another moment of thinking caused her to look up quickly and pin Dean with a dark look. "Did he hurt Sam?"
"No!" Dean shot back, firm on this since he'd always made damn certain to take the fall for anything that would have sent their father off in a rage. "Sure, he still hit me around at times if something wasn't right but I always made sure he stayed away from Sammy."
Getting to her feet to put distance between herself and the couch so any of the sudden anger wouldn't go near the hurt Winchester, she gave the older one an incredulous stare. "I knew John was crazy but I didn't think he was insane. I told him what would happen if he ever lit into either of you again."
"Yeah, well finding out would be hard since you took off from Bobby's that night while I was gone," Dean remarked, the sarcasm plain but there was also a level of hurt unspoken as he also stood. "Care to tell me what went down that night since the mystic over there says I don't know the whole truth?"
As Jack coughed, Morgan promised to make him pay even while rolling her eyes. "Not right now, I don't since if you're still hardwired to believe what John said then you wouldn't listen now anymore than you would've understood that night."
"Try me," was his reply even though he knew he was treading on cracked ice but it was hit little brother who, as he always had, that broke in.
"Dad threatened to break us up if she stayed. He said that if you were so insistent on hanging around with someone like Morgan, I can't repeat his words, then you weren't a good hunter like he trained and he'd take me and leave," Sam's eyes were huge as they went back and forth between his brother and his friend. "Morgan left because she was protectin' us, Dean. Not cause she wanted to."
Closing her eyes with a soft mutter, she shot him a wry look. "Have I told you that you still talk way too much when you're sick, Sam?" she asked, hearing the low growl and cutting it off. "Don't. I don't want to talk about this right now. Focus on him."
"We will talk later," he warned then his eyes went back to his brother, struggling to come to terms with the recent events even as the words tossed at him by MacShayne came back to him. "Sammy, we…need to talk."
Scooting back on the sofa more, Sam drew his long legs nearly up to his chin in the same self-defense move that Dean had seen him do as a child. "Wha…what I do wrong, De?"
Running a hand through his short brown hair, Dean blew out a breath while wincing at the feel of the light smack to the back of his head. "Quit that," he hissed, hating the smacks she would give him normally but when they were telekinetic smacks it was worse. "Sam, you didn't do anything…" the fluttering of wings cut him off and announced the arrival of his tag-a-long Angel. "Cas."
Morgan caught the way Jack tensed at Castiel's arrival but before she could comment Sam's sudden terrified scream and movements took them all by surprise.
"Nooo!" looking like he'd just seen a cross between a werewolf and a wendigo, Sam lunged off the sofa and ran for the back of the cabin.
"Sam!" Dean shot a look at Morgan who could only shrug before turning to an equally confused Castiel. "What the hell caused that?"
The angel in the tan trench coat could only shrug. "I do not know why my appearance would have made Sam react like…"
"Gee, it couldn't have something to do with the fact that between Lucifer wrecking havoc in the kid's mind when he sleeps and Zachariah using his back for tic-tac-toe a few months ago that Sam might just be a little freaked to see Angels, could it, Castiel?" Jack sneered, pushing off the wall even as something was heard crashing from the back. "Great timing, Cas. You always were wonderful with that."
Before the Angel could think to ask what his 'nephew' was doing with Dean another sound come from the back. Brutal, exhaustive sobbing.
"Winchester, get your bloody ass in gear and help Sammy. If I had thought for a minute you honestly believed what he thought you did of him I wouldn't have bothered telling Jack to pull you from whatever mess you'd stepped into." Morgan snapped, the days of handling Sam had finally token their toll and hearing him cry like this and seeing his fear over the appearance of Castiel had broken the restraint she'd been keeping.
Very little had ever scared his baby brother or least to the degree that Sam had just shown and that worried Dean more than anything else right then. Though one thing did nag his brain. "What the hell did that dick do to Sammy and when?" he demanded, voice dropping to the one that normally meant death was close to anyone who hurt his brother.
"It was shortly before you faced War. You two were holed up in some run down motel, you were passed out drunk after brooding all day as per usual for you these days I hear and Sam went to get dinner," Jack's blue eyes were calm as they looked between Dean's tense face and the way Castiel was now shifting. "One of those bible-belt wannabes saw him and put the 411 out to good ole Zach and let's say from what little I glimpsed in your brother's mind the other night while calming him down, Zach and his goons did one hell of a number on Sammy. Told him to tell you that it was a lesson to you. His back took the worst."
Morgan had paled and sent a look toward the back but a hand on her arm kept her from moving as Dean's fingers moved in a familiar way, almost like signing a message that only she would understand. "Can you handle him?" she only asked, expecting to see the hard lines on his face like she had been since his arrival but instead she was surprised to see a deeper emotion reflected. "He loves you Dean and deep down, past the miles of walls, is the same Sammy."
Suddenly tired, Dean only nodded but this time when he met her eyes, something passed between them. "I know, Angel," he sighed, barely aware that he'd used his nickname for her. "Stay here while I talk to Sam and Cas?" he paused to look back with a harder gaze. "If I find out you know or suspected what that damn douchebag did to my brother then you'd better steer clear of me for awhile."
With that, he left to locate his brother and hopefully put something right but also knowing that if Bobby had wanted to use a shotgun on Cas a few times then Morgan probably could and would do something more drastic and for some reason that Dean couldn't name, that was fine with him.
"I don't know…" Castiel began when a finger shoved against his chest in a not so subtle gesture.
"Get. Out. Now." the quiet British accent was firm but it was the latent energy that shone from her blue eyes that spoke of Morgan's displeasure.
As Castiel decided to object or not, Jack laughed. "Castiel, take me advice. Get the hell outta Dodge before my boss rips those wings right outta you or she takes a knife to your heart and since Morgan does have an actual knife to hurt an Angel, that wouldn't be good for you, dude."
The fluttering of wings told of the departure even as Jack smirked but he could feel the tension in the cabin and hoped those boys came out of this alright.
"Sam?" Dean had followed the sounds through the cabin until he came to the farthest room in the place, a much smaller bedroom with a single twin bed that was covered in discarded books and maps and…he lifted a photo like the one he carried and smirked. "Figures that she gave you the biggest bedroom."
Sharp eyes looked around the room as if expecting a threat but they softened as soon as he found Sam, curled into a corned of the room trying to make himself small while clutching what appeared to be a ragged blanket.
"God, Sammy," he whispered, feeling like someone was lifting the grim doubts and thoughts off of him as he slowly went to kneel down next to his frightened little brother. "Hey, dude. Cas wouldn't hurt you. He's too stiff and…"
"They all want to hurt me."
One simple comment made Dean stop dead, his eyes sharp as they looked at his brother closely. He could see the tears still in his eyes. He recognized the way he curled his shoulders tight into the corner while his arms hugged close to his body that this was a combination of fear, pain and absolute loss.
What he wasn't sure of was which side of Sam had chosen to take control and for the first time in a long time, Dean cursed the high powers that had caused the rift between them.
"Who wants to hurt you, Sam?" he asked cautiously, slowly reaching to place a hand on the blanket that barely covered his brother's legs but it was gripped even tighter but not before he recognized it. Another piece of their lives that made him nearly break.
There was silence except for the soft sounds of sniffling before a quiet voice replied. "Lucifer, demons, angels, hunters, Dad…you."
"Sam…" what the hell did he say to that? Dean didn't have a clue so as he floundered for answers and emotions threatened, he resorted to his age old ploy…stalling.
It was the blanket that he picked to draw his little brother's thoughts to when he more cautiously, not wanting to alarm Sam, touched the edge of the nearly threadbare blue and green thing. "She kept this for you, didn't she?" he asked quietly, remembering a cabin in the Nevada mountains that his brother had carried the blanket nearly everywhere with him. He had stopped seeing it after that last night at Bobby's salvage yard, the night his sixteen year old world had changed.
Seeing his brother's long fingers twisting in the blanket, Dean finally sat down on the floor. "Morgan gave you that up in the mountains that time after…when I was hurt."
"You can say, after Dad beat the living hell outta you when I ran away," Sam replied softly, his eyes on the blanket and in the past, struggling to keep what peace he'd gained. "I was scared because you wouldn't wake up even though Morgan said it was going to be fine. The blanket matched the comforter you had so it made me feel like you were still lookin' out for me." he moved his fingers across the still soft material before speaking again. "I knew she was leavin' for good, that Dad wouldn't let us see Morgan again, and she was scared and hurting because she didn't want to leave that way or leave you that way but she had to so I put it in her bag. I wanted her to have somethin' to 'member us by."
Dean wasn't certain if it was his brother's words, the way he was starting to shorten the words, or the emotion in them that was making his own eyes burn, but he quickly blinked them clear and coughed to ensure a nearly level voice. "She'd always remember you Sammy. You were as much an annoying little brother to Morgan as you were to me."
It was a couple of seconds before hazel eyes shifted to briefly look at him before a worn leather book, much like the one they still had of their Father's, was nudged closer to him. "She 'membered you too, De."
"What's…?" Dean flipped the book open curiously, expecting to see maybe Sam's expressive writing but was a little startled to recognize the mix-up writing style that Morgan always favored. After a couple pages, he slowly began to realize why some of his solo hunts had been easier than he'd expected or why the cops hadn't nailed his ass on times when they certainly should have. "Son of a bitch."
"She didn't just happen to find a random bar in Oregon just as I was nailed," Sam spoke and drew his brother back. "She's been watching us so you might want to reconsider picking the fight you're probably leading up to."
"I stopped pickin' fights with her after she out me down the first time, Sammy," Dean chuckled, growing serious. "Sam, do you know where you are? What happened to you?"
Again, his little brother's face closed up and he tried to curl away but this time a warm hand on his shoulder kept him still, even though it had tensed with the touch.
"I…I was attacked…again," there was no humor in the voice when Sam spoke even though his last word had a dry laugh attached to it. "Hunters wanted me to…they tried to make me drink…" his fingers suddenly seized Dean's wrist and wide eyes locked onto his older brother's. "I didn't drink it, Dean. They tried to make me but…it hurt and they…"
"I know, Sammy, I know," Dean felt the anger again that hunters, men that they'd known and had known their Dad, had tried to hurt his little brother. "I should've been…"
A firm shake of a shaggy head and whispered 'no' was heard. "Didn't want them to hurt you. They threatened to and I didn't give a damn if they killed me so long as they didn't go after you. I mean, you want me dead so what's the differ…"
"Who in the hell said I wanted you dead?" Dean's anger showed in the louder tone with that question and he instantly winced at the slap he could feel but ignored it in favor of finally forcing Sam's head up so he could look fully at him. "Sam? I know we've both said and done some stupid things the past few months but I know that I never said those words to you, now who did?"
"Didn't have to say 'em," was the bitter, almost childish, retort as Sam tried to pull away. "Can just tell that's how you feel, how you've felt since…well since before with Ruby and all that crap and why shouldn't you want me dead?" he demanded bitterly, not aware of the new reign of tears that had started again. "I betrayed you so many times, I became evil while you were in Hell because of me, I let loose the damn Devil on the world and…you hate me and won't be my brother anymore so…why should I care if I end up dead or…"
Letting his little brother ramble probably wasn't a good thing but if Dean knew one thing it was once an emotional Sammy got wound up it was best to let him get it all out and then pick up the pieces. Right then, he was busy wondering why he hadn't been bitch-slapped all over the damn cabin by now.
'It was tempting but helping our Sammy was the more important thing,' a soft voice spoke in his mind, using a link that he'd almost forgotten had been there. 'After you fix this mess, that's a whole 'nother ballgame, hotshot.'
"Great thing to know," Dean muttered, noticing that Sam had finally became quiet except for the occasional sob he tried to bury. "You done yet so I can get a word in?"
Keeping his face turned, Sam shuddered but whether it was in pain or fear, that wasn't clear. "Why pretend?" he asked. "He showed me. He showed me that you'd kill me…you still think I'm a monster like we hunt and need to die…so why pretend to care? Just get it the hell over with."
Expecting to feel the normal anger that he had been feeling ever since that night in the convent, Dean was a little surprised when all he felt at his brother's despondent tone and words was…weary pain and more than a little guilt.
Pain that he'd allowed his little brother, the one person he'd loved almost his entire life, to feel that Dean hated him. That he thought he should die. Guilt because he knew that if he'd been stronger, none of this crap would've had happened to either of them.
"He's the Prince of damn Lies, Sam. Lucifer lies, no matter what he says and he'd lie to you just to…" he stopped when his brother's eyes finally shifted to his and he saw pain and fear just as he realized that it wasn't Lucifer who had put those ideas in Sammy's head. "Geez, Sammy. After all the screwin' around that Zachariah's done to us, you actually think that dick would tell the truth?" he scoffed, wondering just what else the bastard had done to his brother. "He wanted Lucifer out so he kept me from getting to you, he wants you to say yes so he nudged us farther apart so you'd be alone. You honestly think I'd allow you to be hurt if I could stop it?"
Sam was silent but his eyes slid away while he drew his knees up to his chin, clutching the blanket tighter again. A clear but unspoken reply that he had.
"Shit," Dean blew out a breath, wanting to shout and feeling his temper building but knowing that his brother had never, not even as a child, responded well to that and after a moment of thought decided he was suddenly too tired to yell.
Slowly, he sat fully on the floor and leaned up against the wall closest to the corner. Being careful not to invade Sam's space more than he was willing to allow but still was close enough, closer than he had been getting these past months as he stretched his legs out in front of him.
Still feeling the mild pain in his body from the last attack by the balding Angel and the emotional trauma he'd faced after Zachariah's trip to the 'future' where Lucifer had indeed held court in Sam's body, Dean closed his eyes for a few minutes and just let silence settle between them.
"I remember the day the said your first word," he began slowly, speaking quietly in a tone he only used when it was just him and Sam and he was getting ready to kick his 'no chick-flick moments' rule to the curb. "I'd been trying for weeks to get you to say 'Dad' or even 'hey you' but out of the blue one day at breakfast you said 'De' and I don't know who was more shocked, me or Dad because I sure wasn't expecting your very first word to be my name. Most babies learn to say Daddy or Mommy but not you. Hell, you even walked to me before you did to Dad. Guess I never considered all the reasons behind that until you were eighteen and had that last fight with him before leaving for college."
Keeping his eyes closed while talking, Dean felt himself relaxing but also felt his brother's tense body had shifted slightly. He wasn't curled quite as tight to the corner anymore and his harsh breathing seemed to have lessened.
"When I carried you outta the house the night of the fire, I didn't think anything of it. Dad had put you in my arms and told me to run and I did but in doing so I guess I'd sealed a promise that I had made the first time Mom let me hold you. I had promised myself that I'd always take care of my baby brother and after that night, I did," he paused to chuckle as he thought back. "Sure, most people say it was because Dad became obsessed with hunting, but it wasn't the real reason. I took care of you because I wanted to. I made sure to always be the one who was there when you woke up because when you were a baby, I loved watching you first wake up and look for me. You used to do the silliest baby laugh first thing when you woke up and it made me feel alive because I had you to take care of. I'd give you a bath, make sure you always had clean clothes and toys to play with while Dad hunted."
Dean paused to consider before deciding it was time to drop the walls and just toss it all out. "Dad's standard 'Take care of Sammy' line used to make me laugh and just want to say 'Duh, you think?' because lookin' after you is what I always did. Yeah, sometimes it was hard and sometimes I might've acted like it was a pain in the ass, especially after you started gettin' older but I never stopped lookin' after you. I made sure you had the best life that I could give you considerin' our lives. I took the most chores and made damn sure he never found out if you slipped on yours and I always tried to divert his anger away from you because while I didn't give a crap what happened to me, I sure as hell cared what happened to you, Sammy."
The sound of movement told him that his shaky little brother had turned to watch him but was still staying silent, though he clearly had his attention. "After Flagstaff and he flipped out when I lost you, I don't really know much of the afterevents…hell, I don't even know what really went down between Morgan and Dad except Caleb told me later that he hoped to hell that he never got her that mad at him. I know that I slipped a little in the taking care of you area but I tried to blame that on the anger I felt at her just leaving the way she did while I was out getting some stuff from town. I still caught how hurt you acted, how sullen and the way you hid in the junkyard in the daytime. Something happened with Dad, didn't it, Sam?"
He wasn't certain if it was the quiet of the room or the casualness of the question that actually got his brother to answer but Dean did hear the soft 'Yeah' that was whispered. Though, he also caught the sound of glass breaking in the front of the cabin and was silently glad that the British woman didn't have a way to get to John Winchester right then. "Tell me about it?"
"I was angry. I had hid at the top of Bobby's steps that night after Dad had sent you into town because I knew it had been his only way to get you and Morgan apart and as soon as you were gone, the yelling started," Sam spoke softly, wary of this and he kept looking at his older brother as if to gauge his emotions. "After Morgan was gone, Dad saw me and told me to go to bed. I screamed at him and the next thing I remember is Bobby shoving Dad out the door. Tellin' him to go get cooled off and not to come back until he did."
Dean swallowed a little heavily at that, filling in the blanks and not liking it but he sidestepped that for now in favor of keeping himself on track in order to bring his brother back. "I always tried to look out for you. Even when you were being a snot nosed teenager who fought with him constantly I tried to do what I had to for you. It wasn't until that night that I realized maybe why you bucked him so much. Do you remember what you said to him? It was one of the rare times that I had seen Dad go white right before he went for your throat."
"I told him that while he might've been my Father by blood, he wasn't my Dad. You were because you were the one who sacrificed everything to raise me and so you'd always have my respect and love but he'd only caused us grief and pain." Sam answered the rhetorical question in the same soft tone but didn't hide the catch that showed. "You hated me after that night too though."
With a small laugh, Dean shook his head. "Never hated you, Sammy," he corrected, opening one eye a little to look next to him. "I was hurt by your choice to leave and when I'm hurt, I hurt back but even as I drove you to the bus station I was proud of you. You'd done what you said you would and gotten away from him, you earned a full ride to Stanford and could have that normal life you wanted."
Wanting to reach out, Dean stayed still because he knew it was too soon to make that move. "Seeing you leave was probably like what a parent felt like when a kid finally leaves the nest but hell, little brother aside you were mine and it hurt being alone." he admitted, not ashamed of the tears clouding his vision as he fought to finally say what he always should have said. "Dad started leaving soon after and when we did hunt together it was tense. Yeah, I could've called Morg but like the idiot that I am, I listened to Dad about why she left and didn't want the pain again. I left you alone for the most part because I knew you wanted a clean break but that didn't mean that I didn't check up on you…though I'm guessin' I wasn't the only one to do that."
"If you woulda known what I'd become, would you have saved me from the fire?" the sudden question took Dean off guard because he drew a sharp breath that had Sam pulling back again as if expecting a slap or fist, something that his brother had become good at giving.
Fighting to even the emotions that one brought on, Dean closed his eyes again and recalled the tiny warm little body that he'd held that night while then considering the man that baby had grown into.
"What? Would I have saved you if I'd known you'd grow up into a giant 6'4" Sasquatch with a big brain, clumsy feet, shaggy hair and even bigger heart?" Dean scoffed lightly, waving a hand in mock dismissal but heard the sound next to him and sighed, seeing that Sam wasn't going to take that for a reply. "What exactly have you become that would've made me not want to save you?"
A snort of disbelief was heard and Sam nearly unfolded himself to face his suddenly too calm brother fully. "A monster. A guy with demon blood inside him who has hurt you, betrayed you and everything you taught me, slept with a demon who was just using me against you. The guy who broke the last seal, let Lucifer out of his box and started the damn Apocalypse. The monster who, while possessed by a demon, killed a hunter and…" his voice suddenly broke in emotion and he started to turn away until a hand suddenly stilled him.
"O-kay, let's take this one by one," Dean finally opened his eyes to look at his brother firmly, no longer finding Sam's opinions of himself amusing. "First, you are not a monster and the first son of a bitch who calls you one will have my gun upside their head or I'll turn Morgan loose. Next, you weren't born with demon blood in you, Sam. If anyone, besides that damn Yellow-Eyed bastard, is to blame for that happening to you, it's Mom…shut up, I have the floor now," he cut off the words his brother would have said.
"Mom made a deal, Sammy and it came out worse than what she was expecting. Sure, she didn't know what the demon was going to do but the fact of it is, she made the deal that allowed him to enter our house and touch you so that isn't something you can hang onto since you didn't ask for it. Next, tell me how you betrayed me or the stuff I taught you and I'll find a dozen reasons why you didn't…"
"I shot you with rocksalt in that damn asylum, I walked out how many times, I didn't tell you about my dreams, I…" Sam's words tripped over themselves as Dean smirked.
"Leave it to you to still be guilt-trippin' over that whole asylum deal," Dean snorted, rolling his eyes. "Sammy, some crazy nut had fried your brain so I didn't put a whole lotta stock in what you said even though a lot of it was true. We were two different people and yeah, it drove me nuts when you wanted to have an opinion of your own, that was just me trying to lock you in a glass jar to keep you from being hurt again," he declared, clearing his throat. "A part of me hated myself for dragging you back into this crap, especially after Jessica died and you were so damn broken but the other part, the selfish part, was glad to have you back because I'd missed you so much."
Dean paused, aware that his hand hadn't been shrugged off even though the arm under it was still tense. "Every time you got hurt though it was like when you were six and I was powerless to keep you safe. When those damn crazy rednecks grabbed you, I nearly went mad with worry and I didn't give a damn if I'd been arrested, just so I had you back safe…and you still owe me the truth on what happened to you. We'll skip that right now since I've skipped a few things…the whole demon bitch thing only happened because I left you alone…"
"You went to Hell because of me," Sam cut in, rubbing a hand over his eyes in a familiar motion that made Dean's heart break. "What's dead should stay dead and you shoulda left me for dead. That way none of this woulda…."
Glass broke again and Dean winced. "I don't really think you should say that where she can hear it or I won't be the only Winchester getting slapped today," he pointed out, lowering his voice slightly. "Sammy, I never questioned or regretted my choice that day. I made the deal because it was my only way to save you and do you want to know what Plan B would've been if I couldn't make a deal?" he went on before his brother could reply. "I probably still have the message to Bobby saved in the draft folder on my phone since I'd already written the note to tell him what to do because if I couldn't have my brother, the next plan was to blow my brains all over that room."
Finally Sam's eyes, which had started to clear, jerked up to meet his brother's green ones. "No…you…you had everything to live for," he argued softly. "I was always causing trouble, getting' you hurt or…"
"Besides Morgan, Sammy, you were the only thing I cared about and without you I sure as hell wasn't plannin' on living with you rotting in the ground or on a funeral pyre," Dean countered. "My biggest mistake then was not swallowin' my damn pride and finding her so that Morgan could be with you. If I had then that skank sure as hell wouldn't have gotten within two feet of you without being fried and then none of the demon blood stuff would've happened or…"
"She said the more demons I killed the sooner I could get you outta there," Sam whispered, dropping his eyes. "That was how she got me started on the blood because she said I needed to be stronger to help you."
That admission made Dean's face twitch slightly but he shoved it down for a time when he wasn't facing a scared little brother. "You aren't a monster, Sammy. Ruby played on the fears you had and I was too busy that time trying to ignore that I was leavin' you alone that I didn't let you face those fears with me so when she turned on the charm, you were easy meat for her. When I came back, I should've tried harder to be a brother for you but I was still so screwed up that I wasn't seein' what was happenin' with you until it was too late and by then she'd sunk her hooks in too deep. Maybe if I hadn't come on so strong that night we wouldn't have fought but…"
"It was like lookin' out of my eyes when Meg was in control. I didn't want to fight you that night before the convent but it was just…happening," Sam risked a glance up, too see if he'd see the same hate or disappointment in his brother's eyes. "I was scared at the convent, I really just wanted you but then I heard that voicemail you left and…I knew I'd screwed it up and lost my brother."
"Just by saying I was still mad at you and still owed you a serious beatdown convinced you that you'd lost me?" Dean blinked in confusion, recalling something that MacShayne had mentioned about Sam not hearing his message right. "Sam, what the hell did you hear?"
His brother slid his eyes away and bit his lip, not wanting to remember those words but as the hand on his shoulder squeezed gently, he sighed. "You called me a monster, a vampire that was no better than the things we hunted and that you were through with me."
"Huh," Dean grunted, running his tongue around his teeth while his brain swirled in emotions. "Morgan! Any chance that mystic out there can burn that goddamn Angel out of existence?" he called, knowing she was close enough to hear him.
"Probably," came the reply which meant that it wouldn't probably happen soon anyway. "Dean."
"Sammy, that's not what I said," he spoke firmly, finally moving so he was close enough to fully reach out and touch his little brother. "No matter what you've done, you are not a monster and I would never say that to…"
Sam's arm finally did jerk free of the light touch but didn't move away, he just moved so he could look at Dean fully, the still present tears liquid in large hazel eyes. "You said you couldn't trust me anymore, that it could never be the way it was because of what I did and…no matter what I do to make you trust me again or look at me like your brother it just goes wrong."
"Why should you trust me, Sam?" Dean suddenly asked, seeing that took him by surprise so he went on. "I've pretty much taken my frustrations out on you since I got back. I tricked you into Bobby's Panic Room to go cold turkey on demon blood by yourself, I've let you down so many times and hurt you, so why should you still trust me?"
Blinking at the sudden question, Sam could only answer with his heart. "Because you're my big brother and I've always trusted you, Dean." he lowered his head again. "I deserve your hate but it's the not having you as my brother that makes me…"
The sudden breaking of his voice and the tears finally did it and Dean threw in the proverbial towel, reaching over quickly to place both hands on his shaking little brother's face and forced his head back up to eye level.
"I. Do. Not. Hate. You." he slowly spoke each word to be sure they got through, swallowing the lump that was forming. "Sammy, you've made mistakes. I've made mistakes and we've both been used by both ends of this little war but nothing short of my death will ever make me hate you or stop being your bro…your big brother," he vowed.
Voice deep with emotions he normally would steer clear of but this was one of those times that he'd call do-over on once he was certain Sam was better, Dean let one hand slide around to grip his brother's neck in a way that he'd done before and pulled him closer. "I know you're hurt and scared, Sammy and God, if I could take every damn thing back that I'd said or done I would but I can't. I just need you to believe that I would never hurt you or allow something else to hurt you if I could keep from it," he stated firmly, holding large puppy dog eyes that told him he was slowly getting through. "I'm sorry some dumb-ass hunters hurt you while I was too busy feeling sorry for myself and I'm sorry that you thought you couldn't tell me that Zachariah had hurt you to get at me because you are and will always be my baby brother and the same rule apply. Anyone who hurts you doesn't live to see tomorrow."
Sam, for the first time since he'd released Lucifer, lifted his eyes up to fully meet those of his big brother and didn't see the weariness in his flat green eyes. Today when he locked eyes, he saw brilliant green that shined with a familiar but long since missing look of protectiveness that he honestly hadn't seen since the night their Father died.
"Dean?" shaking, he hesitated before slowly, cautiously reaching a hand out to grip his brother's shirt as if needing something to ground him. "You…you are real, right? This isn't a trick or…"
Hearing the mild fear still in Sam's voice made Dean all too aware that either Angel or Demon had tried to use him against Sam and he silently vowed to find a way to keep that from happening again. "Yeah, little brother, it's me," he reassured him, shifting a look to the door before lowering his voice so only Sam would hear him. "Give me a second and I'll tell you about that time in that mountain cabin after you'd gone to bed that…Ouch!"
This mental slap wasn't quite as gentle and came with a sharp warning of more later if he even thought of telling that but he still grinned. "Later, Sammy," he promised, and then gave a slight tug to pull his still wary and trembling little brother into a hug that neither expected Sam to return. "C'mere, Sammy."
Sam, on instinct of recent days, tensed upon contact but the touch of leather under his hands and the jacket's familiar smell that reminded him of earlier, happier days and of his brother suddenly made the walls he'd been building crumble a little and he latched on to both the jacket and Dean with both arms. He wasn't caring that he was an adult or that he'd pretty much buried his face into Dean's neck and let the emotions he'd been hiding go with abandon.
"Sshh, it's okay, Sammy," Dean soothed, getting a better grip on his now sobbing younger Winchester to pull him the rest of the way into his arms and allowed him to cry, feeling Sam's fingers grip his shirt tighter while his other arm had snaked its way around Dean's chest. "It's going to be alright, kid. I won't promise smooth sailing all the time because this is us but I will promise to make it better and kill the next son of a bitch who thinks about touching you," he spoke quietly, keeping his voice low. His one hand began to gently rub the familiar circles and signals against Sam's shaking back while his other hand carded through his longer than usual hair. "It'll be good and so will we."
They stayed like this for a long while until Sam had calmed somewhat, though he still clung to Dean and for the first time since returning from Hell, he felt like he was close to having his Sammy back which eased the rest of the tension from the eldest brother.
"Don' go, De," Sam was slipping into sleep as exhaustion finally was making him fall to sleep but at least he was relaxed and felt safe to sleep, something he hadn't been feeling even before the attack. "Don't leave me again?"
"Not going anywhere, little brother," Dean assured him in a voice that was gruff from emotion but as he felt the tension finally melt out of Sam's body and the kid went limp against him, he was able to let out a breath he'd been holding. "Not ever again. We face what comes together or not at all."
Shifting slightly in order to place Sam in a more comfortable position, Dean sighed when his larger but still younger brother latched on tighter as if afraid to be moved. "Sammy, c'mon, lets at least get you to a bed or something," he urged quietly but only got a near whimper in reply.
A step from beside them had Dean's head jerking up and a hand automatically going for the gun he'd placed close by when a feeling stopped him. "Hey, babe."
"Pretty sure of yourself aren't you, Dean?" Morgan knelt down beside him, her eyes moving over Sam with concern but she noticed that the younger man looked at ease. "He alright?"
Glancing between them, Dean moved his head in a way that meant he could only hope so. "He's sleeping but he's holding on so damn tight it reminds me of when he was four and had a bad dream."
"Sammy's scared you'll be gone when he wakes up so he's holding on. He did that in the cabin too." Morgan shrugged, glancing at the twin bed before back to Sam with a slight frown. "He is not fitting on this bed."
"Nope. I've found very few Sammy-size beds in our travels," Dean smirked, moving his eyes up to look at the British girl and noticed the dark circles. "When was the last time you slept?"
Morgan considered before giving him a look that could've mirrored one of his own. "I'll sleep when I know he's safe and maybe after I beat the living hell outta you for letting it get this bad," she replied and then nodded back over her shoulder. "Jack fixed the bed in his room which will fit him but can I ask, what the bloody hell did you feed this kid to make him grow this tall?"
"Uh-huh, it was all that green crap that you got him hooked on," he tossed back, keeping his voice low so not to wake his brother up. "He sprouted around fourteen or so but even I was shocked when he went past me."
"I bet," she grinned at his dark look but then laid a hand on Sam's side. "You want help getting him back in there?"
Dean considered how to move his sleeping brother without waking him up and possibly upsetting him. "Guess we could try that mystic of yours and let him do the teleport thing."
"Oh, we don't need Jack for that, luv," she smiled slightly before moving a hand and using the one power she rarely used. "Bloody hell, that hurt."
"When the hell did you learn to do that?" Dean demanded in a low voice, looking at Sam but was pleased to see that he was still asleep but he shifted to move closer to Dean's side.
Morgan waved it off to lean against the dresser. "I always could but I don't normally…for obvious reasons," she muttered, seeing Dean frown and start to move. "No, if you even twitch wrong he'll wake up. I'm fine."
Looking for the first time, Dean could tell his friend wasn't really fine. Her normally pale skin was even more so right then and hands that he knew were always stable were now shaking slightly.
She'd been fourteen the last time he'd seen her, two years younger than him, and he had made a firm choice to overlook her abilities because he knew she was a good person. She had doted on Sam and being able to understand and handle the world of the weird and undead, he'd formed a fast friendship…or if he wanted to admit it, something deeper. Something that was destroyed and he still had no clue why.
"We need to talk, Morgan," he finally spoke, seeing that Sam had eased his grip on Dean's shirt but only so that he could roll on his side with both arms around his brother. "It's okay, Sammy. You're fine."
"Yeah, but not until he's awake or stable," Morgan threw back, not ready to have this out yet with Dean because she knew in some way he still looked up to his Father so it was just as well if he believed what he'd been told. "Later…maybe."
Shooting her a firm look that was his normal 'don't try to play games' look, Dean just nodded but before she could move away he shot out a hand to grab her wrist. "I owe you for looking after Sam."
"We made a vow, Dean, that no one would hurt 'our' Sammy while either of us could protect him," Morgan reminded quietly, eyes softening as they always did when it was just them and Sam. "He loves you, though I still don't see why. You are still the most exasperating, hard-headed, stubborn man in the damn world," she complained but the smile that played on her lips told the truth of that.
"I'm an awesome big brother and that's why Sammy loves me," Dean teased back though as he moved his hand from her wrist to her hand, he looked up. "You used to adore me about as much as I recall."
"Sure, until you went and did something stupid," Morgan grinned, easily freeing her hand while leaning down to card her fingers through Sam's hair before brushing a friendly kiss over his forehead and was glad to feel him finally cool. "Go to sleep, hotshot," she urged Dean, standing up.
He'd watched her with his brother and felt the same warmth that he had back then. Sam, at twelve, had only allowed Morgan to do that and it was clear it was still the same way. "Hey, as I recall I used to get one of those or are we still playing favorites?"
Narrowing a look at the elder Winchester, Morgan appeared to be considering that and since with Sam limiting Dean's movements, she smiled slightly. "You'll always be my favorite, Dean," she told him softly, then leaned closer but before he could make the move she knew he was considering she lightly kissed his forehead the same way and then backed away, but they both knew that kiss was meant with different intentions. "Get some sleep and then maybe we'll talk."
Dean waited until she had left the bedroom to breathe, easing back on the bed to lean against the headboard while Sam moved closer but appeared to be at peace as he slept. "Yeah, we're talking for sure, Angel," he whispered, determined this time he was leaving with answers and hopefully a healed heart that he'd ignored for years. "Sam, I may need to talk you into pretending to be sick for a little longer since we both know she won't kill me if you're sick."
Sleep came fast for the eldest Winchester now that Sam was sleeping fully so Dean didn't wake up at the soft touch that ran through his own short hair or the even softer kiss that brushed his mouth.
"Sorry, Dean, but you and Sam need to concentrate on things fully and neither of us are ready to face the past yet," Morgan whispered, placing the envelope on the nightstand before slipping out of the cabin to eye Jack MacShayne. "You make damn sure no Angel or Demon comes near them now."
"Yeah, that'll be fine considering," Jack muttered, wondering if he shouldn't warn his employer that it wasn't going to be that easy to get these two out of her life again. "Nahh, why ruin the fun?"
A/N: A short epilogue will follow to tie up things with the boys. Thanks again for those who have read, reviewed, and marked this as a favorite. It means a lot.