Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
Sam watched Dean carefully draw symbols onto the skin of his limp body with a thin paintbrush and a mixture of herbs and blood as the paint. Dean had cut away his shirt in order to draw on his chest, and if Sam was being honest with himself, he looked terrible. Absolutely terrible.
Then again, how many corpses had he come across that weren't hideous. (Angela in Greenville, Illinois didn't count. She was only dead for, what, a day before the obsessed kid used ancient Greek necromancy to bring her back? Sam was looking at the product of weeks of decay, and it wasn't pretty.)
Some of the symbols Dean drew, Sam recognized from his own perusing of the Men of Letters' library. Others, he didn't have the slightest clue where they came from.
"Called Rowena for some help with the spellwork," he said, like he could read Sam's mind even when he was a ghost. "She's still not too happy about always being dragged into the supernatural. She just wants to be left alone."
Dean chuckled a bit at his own words as he finished the last symbol.
Mary helped him clean up, and they fell into a sort of sync they developed over their time working together. The time spent trying to save Sam while making him feel more invisible than ever.
He stopped haunting Dean's dreams. While he still wanted Dean to burn the amulet and let him go, there was even less of a point now that Dean had a hope to grip. A real hope.
Flares of anger felt more frequent, though he tried to keep himself from throwing or breaking anything, but sometimes he couldn't stop himself.
This was one of those times. He picked up one of the scented candles Mary set up all over his room and sent it crashing to the ground. It wasn't lit, but he wished it was. Wished it would burn his bones and make Dean set him free.
Dean looked almost afraid when he fell to his knees to pick up the pieces of glass on the floor. "You can't do this to me now, Sammy," he said. "You just have to hold on a little longer, okay? Cas will be here and he'll bring some people who will have you all sorted out in no time. I promise."
"I don't want this to be fixed," Sam said, no one hearing him. "You have Mom, you'll be fine. If you bring me back⦠You know I'll just ruin whatever chance you have to bond with her. The chance that I know you've wanted since you were four years old."
"Dean, how much longer until Cas will get here?" Mary asked.
"I don't know," Dean said. "He hasn't called again. I'm just hoping it'll be soon. I can't lose Sam, Mom."
"You won't, Dean," she said. "Everything will turn out just fine."
It was another week before Cas showed up at the bunker door with his own miniature army of angels trailing behind. A week of Dean obsessively checking and rechecking the symbols drawn on Sam. A week of Dean talking in empty rooms to try and keep Sam calm and not vengeful. A week of broken things from Sam's fits of anger. A week of making sure that anything dangerous was kept far out of Sam's reach.
Sometimes, Dean felt like he was dealing with Sam as a toddler again, hiding all of Daddy's weapons so that Sam wouldn't hurt himself due to his insatiable curiosity. Back when things were easier, even if they never felt that way at the time.
Cas called him the day before to say that they were on the way, so when he heard the resounding echo of knocks on the bunker's heavy metal door, he bounded through the halls and up the stairs two at a time.
"Man, am I glad to see you, Cas," he said, stepping aside to let the angels in.
Cas led the way, five other angels trailing behind. They were what he learned to expect from angels. Clean. Stood up straight. Wore nice suits like CEOs, which were probably more expensive than every piece of clothing Dean's owned in his entire life put together. But hey, they were there to save his brother, so who was he to complain, really.
"I am sorry that it took so long, Dean. Ever since we lost our wings, traveling has become very tedious and time consuming," Cas said. "These angels are some of the few who are grateful that we helped imprison Metatron and reopened Heaven, rather than those who still hold grudges towards me for falling into Metatron's trap."
"Metatron was a madman," one of the other angels said. "I didn't realize that until it was far too late. He never wanted to make Heaven back into the wondrous place it once was, he just wanted the power of controlling Heaven."
"That's Ingrid," Cas said. "She was a high ranking follower of Metatron."
"Yes," Ingrid said. "And I'm doing all I can to make up for what I helped do by following him."
"Well, I appreciate it," Dean said. "That goes to all of you. I really appreciate the help."
Only one or two nodded to acknowledge his words at all, but they could be cursing him out and shoving him against walls for all he cared. As long as they saved Sam, he didn't care what they did to him.
Mary stood off in the corner of Sam's room, giving the angels plenty of space, but still being present.
Dean joined her, and judging by the way the angels look at them, but off to the side, he assumed that Sam was nearby as well.
"The body isn't in perfect condition," one of the angels said.
Cas shook his head. "No, it isn't. But it should be in good enough shape to house a soul. The body can heal itself the rest of the way after."
Dean was okay with that. He'd spent the past weeks secluding himself in the bunker looking for answers. He could spend a few more weeks holed up while Sam heals, especially since Sam healing meant that Sam was alive.
"The soul is present, though," Cas continued. "That should make our job that much easier."
"That soul is on its way to vengeful."
Dean's heart stopped for a moment. He knew that Sam was in bad shape as a ghost, but just how close to vengeful was he? This was supposed to be the day that he regained his brother, not the day he lost him permanently.
"Not far enough to prevent a resurrection," Ingrid said. She looked over to Dean and Mary. "Just be certain to keep him calm when he wakes. The residual effects from a vengeful path combined with negative emotions in a weakened body could be his undoing, and then there would be no amount of help that could save him without sending him on to Heaven."
Dean nodded, heart now beating too fast and, Jesus, Sam was going to be the reason he had a heart attack (poor eating habits aside).
"I can do that," he said, but he wasn't entirely sure. Sam had been pretty unhappy and spent his time dead practically begging Dean to just let him die permanently. He just needed to figure out how to make Sam realize it was better when they were both alive. He needed to show Sam that the world needed him alive. That Dean needed him alive.
Dean didn't know what he expected, but the resurrection was a lot less flashy than he thought it should be. The angels circled Sam's bed and held hands to share their power. At some point, a soft light enveloped Sam. He started breathing, and the bullet wound closed.
But then it was over like nothing happened at all.
The other angels left, but Cas stayed behind and claimed a room in the bunker to recharge. All of the angels looked like they could use a break, the resurrection seemed to take all the energy they had to give.
Dean pulled up a chair to sit at Sam's bedside while Mary lit the candles in the room again. Without ghost Sam hanging around, they didn't need to worry about him setting the bunker on fire. The scent of death wasn't as strong thanks to the other times they'd had the candles lit, but it still lingered.
Dean wondered if it'd ever be fully gone.
"C'mon, Sammy, open your eyes," he said. "I think you've gotten enough rest, don't you?"
Sam was breathing and had a heartbeat, which Dean was grateful for. He just wished that Sam would wake up so he could see what Sam needed. He refused to let Ingrid's scenario play out.
With a groan and a few seconds of shifting, Sam's eyes finally opened. They wandered the room before turning to Dean.
"Hey, how ya feeling?"
"I asked you to let me go, Dean," Sam said, his voice barely a whisper. "Why didn't you?"
"You know I can't do that, Sammy. I need you here."
When Sam turned his head away, Dean felt his heart sink.
Author's Note: Sam is alive, but he's not too happy about it. There's only one chapter left to go, so I would love if you took a moment to leave a review before you leave!
