SAFE FAITH


It had been a long journey to get to nothing. A few rough jobs. A sixteen day flight, even hardburning some of it, with a mishap that consisted of Sam managing to break Dean's vintage disc player and nearly running out of fuel in the middle of space. Dean was exhausted, irritated, and frankly ready to throw his brother out the airlock. So when Sam, with disbelief and sarcasm dripping from his words said, "Dad came all this way to smuggle . . . cattle?" Dean couldn't take the humor from the situation.

"What, did you think he'd be smuggling slaves? We aren't always evil like you think."

Sam's nostrils flared at Dean's comment. "I didn't say that," he returned coolly. "Though it's interesting that's what your mind first went to."

Dean clenched his hands. "Oh, go on, here comes another monologue about our backwards ways and how we are awful human beings, right? Perfect Sammy's always right. Bet you wanna head on back to the Alliance now, for your shiny life."

"Stop putting words in my mouth," Sam snarled.

"Then tell me it's not true!"

He saw Sam clench his jaw before he turned away. "Fine, you want me to go? I'll go. Hell, I'm practically a doctor already, it'll be easy enough to buy my own way and get someone who can actually find Dad." Sam turned and strode off.

Dean hadn't expected Sam to leave. He gaped a little, scrambling for a comeback or a plea for Sam to stay with him, he wasn't sure which. The town on the bare moon of Jiangyin didn't have much. Sam couldn't go far, and Dean relaxed a bit. He'd let Sam cool off, and then pick him up when he was good and ready to apologize.

He kicked forlornly at the pens his dad had used to keep the cattle in—really, cattle? That was a stretch, even for them—and turned back to the Impala. At least she would never abandon him.


Dean waited for a few hours before his patience wore thin. He carefully shut up his ship so no one would steal his baby and headed into town.

Sure, it would be embarrassing to have to go trailing after Sam like some gorram lost puppy, but it was better than Sam really and truly disappearing on him.

Fifteen minutes later, he stormed back out, on a warpath. He should've checked. Backwater moons like this were notorious for being dangerous; apparently, this one had a penchant for kidnapping people.

"I'm coming, Sam," he muttered. He considered briefly of taking the Impala, but went against it. It would be too hard to fly it himself and search the ground for settlements. Instead he took one of the shuttles. Every second that it took to prep the shuttle—feeling the mechanism catch, slowly easing the shuttle out from its concave place over the wing—made him feel more and more anxious. Who knew what the crazy settlers might do to Sam.

Despite how freaked Dean was, he settled back into his training. Emotions could make him do something stupid, and Dean needed to be smart about it. He created a search pattern, flying high and using a camera rig that they used on heists to photograph the ground below. After every block of the pattern, he would run through the images to check for settlements.

It was a long process, and every time the pictures were empty brushland, Dean's chest got tighter and tighter.

Finally, he received his break. There was a decent tree cover, but some buildings were hiding amongst them. Dean landed a mile away, taking his weapons with him. Someone was going to pay for taking Sam.


It was nightfall, as he approached the settlement. Dean's senses were set on high alert, not only because of the situation, but because the entire town seemed too quiet.

There was a shout. Sam's shout. Dean ran forward, leveling his shotgun at the crowd. Sam was tied to a post in the center, while the folks around him held torches aloft. All that was missing were pitchforks.

"Looks like I got here in the nick of time for this party." Dean swung the shotgun around so it slowly had each person in its sights. "What does that make me, Sammy?"

Sam was staring at him. He had a black eye, and dried blood under his nose. "What?" he asked dumbly.

"A big damn hero." Dean's grin was tight—his brother was tied up and hurt, and real jokes would wait until he was safe and taken care of—and he pointed his gun at the leader of whatever crazy sacrifice or ritual was going on.

"You interfere with God's work?" The woman next to the man in robes radiated power, and Dean pointed his gun at her. "This man is evil."

"Evil? Sam? This man once cried when he saw a rabbit being killed by a bird. You call that evil?"

"Dean, no, I saw it, get away before they—"

The sharp sting and buzz of electricity made Dean's arms lock up, and he dropped his gun before following it to the ground. The last thing he heard was Sam's shout.


"It would really help if you were awake," Sam said. "I swear, if that gorram shocker did anything to your heart I am going to—"

"S'm?" Dean squinted through crusty eyes. "Too loud."

Sam was stretched as far as he could go, bloody wrists a testament to how hard he was trying to get to Dean. "Dean, can you sit up?"

Dean assessed, found himself lying on his side in an awkward position. He really really wanted to lie still, but Sam had a freaked out high note in his voice that did things to Dean's gut, so he pushed up, panting softly. "Man, they got me good with that fei wu."

Sam's smile was tight. "Can you scoot closer? I need to feel your pulse."

"Why?"

"Those weapons are highly unregulated, sometimes the charge can through your heart out of whack."

That didn't sound good. Dean nodded, slowly scooting forward. "Like that puny thing could do anything to me," he said bravely.

Sam grimaced, reaching for Dean as soon as he was close enough. He was woozy enough to find himself slumping forward, forehead hitting Sam's bony shoulder.

"You need to eat more," he muttered.

"Shh." Sam swore under his breath in Chinese. "I need to get you to the infirmary, kuai yi dianr."

Dean groaned. "Did they say what was going on? Why did they even snatch you?"

"They wanted a doctor, and instead they got a witch."

Dean peered up at his brother. "Huh?"

"I had a vision of you getting electrocuted."

"Oh."

He took a few more deep breaths before easing back and sitting up on his own power. "Escape?"

"They took my lock picks. Ni ne?"

Dean rifled through his pockets, and then the lining of his pants. "The bumbling idiots are not as dumb as they look."

Sam sighed. "That woman, Sue Ann, I think, she's the one who has the most influence. Her husband is their so-called prophet, what he says goes, and she tells him what to say."

"Get rid of her, solve our problem?"

Sam grimaced. "Assuming we can get to her. They want to burn me, and now probably you, at the stake."

"Well, ain't that just nice." Dean glanced around the small shed they were stuck inside. "I vote we leave before that, hao ma?"

"With you half-dead until I can treat you? I don't think so."

Dean's brain was pounding, but he managed to come up with a decent plan. "Okay, listen up because I'm gonna sleep after I say all of this."


Dean stared up at the pyre they had erected.

"They take their witches seriously, eh Sam?"

His brother's expression was tight. "I dunno, Dean."

"Just remember that summer you wanted to join the local planet hopping theatre."

Sam scowled at him, and then yelped as he was pushed a little. Dean bared his teeth at the offender.

"Watch it, jerkface."

Sam met his glance one more time before collapsing with a more deliberate cry, clutching his head. With all their focus on him, Dean snagged the keys from their so-called guard.

"Burn him!"

Sue Ann's cry was echoed by the mob. Dean barely had time to undo his own cuffs before stumbling over to Sam and discreetly letting the key fall next to his brother's hands.

"Sammy, are you okay?"

Sam's eyes continued to roll, and Dean had a moment of panic; what if Sam was actually having a vision? But out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam fiddle with the keys and undo his own cuffs.

"Now!" Sam shouted. Without warning, he had grabbed Dean around the waist—half-carrying him, he sprinted over to the town's stables, shoved Dean onto a horse, and leapt onto his own.

"Yah! Kuai, kuai, kuai!" Dean kicked his horse into motion, the two of them galloping off. The shouts of the angry mob faded, and Dean realized his chest kind of hurt. He pulled his horse's mane and it nickered at him, slowing down.

"S'm," he slurred. "I don—"


He woke up with some fancy gadget strapped to his chest, the constant hum of the Impala music in his ears. Sighing, Dean lay back down on the infirmary's uncomfortable bed. Sam must've done his magic.

"Dean? You up?"

Dean groaned, keeping his eyes shut. "Sleep now, talk later."

"No, xianzai, we need to talk."

The fear in Sam's voice made Dean open his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I need you to tell me what to do to turn on the crybaby. I dropped it off, but the signal won't go through and it needs to go now."

Dean squinted at the device. "Connected the wires wrong." He lifted a shaky hand, pulling up one and pointing to the place it was supposed to go.

Sam cursed, quickly doing as Dean had shown him.

"We being followed?"

"I took you to an Alliance cruiser to get you fixed up, and they just made us. Hang on, Dean, I need to hardburn us out of here, do not move."

Dean had completely woken up by the time Sam was out the door. For Sam to even have gone to the Alliance, let alone gotten them off the cruiser and back in the Firefly and flying away . . .

With a grunt of exertion, Dean sat up. The weird metal thing on his chest came with him, and didn't seem to be attached to anything. He rose on wobbly legs, feeling his vision blur a little.

"You—" Sam began a long, drawn-out Chinese curse that Dean was pretty sure included a mention of elephant dung. He stumbled a little, and was gently caught and lowered to the floor.

"We safe?"

"Yeah, I got us out of there. We're good."

"Alliance cruiser?"

Sam grimaced. "I kinda . . . stole the identity of a doctor when I was studying at Ariel. Just in case you or dad showed up in desperate need of medical attention that we needed to get into the hospital for."

Dean couldn't help smiling. "That's my boy." He patted Sam's cheek. He looked Sam over. "Okay, your turn. Let me see your wrists. They get you anywhere else?"

"Just some bruises."

"Shirt. Gotta make sure you didn't end up with any internal injuries."

Sam sighed, making a face as he pulled his shirt up over his head. Dean sucked air through his teeth.

"Gorramit, Sam, those aren't 'just some bruises.'"

Sam squirmed away from his seeking hands. "They'll be fine."

"Next nicer planet we'll find you some hot springs salon, huh?"

Sam made a face, but couldn't hold it. Dean's smile slid away at the shaky breath Sam took. "Sam?"

"You had a heart attack, while we were escaping from Jiangyin." Sam still hadn't let go of Dean, and he could feel him trembling. "I, uh, I had to do basic resuscitation right there, and you were barely alive by the time I flew us to the cruiser."

Dean whistled. "Nice save, man."

"Almost not enough." Sam ducked his head, and the next breath he took was wet. "You can't . . . you can't leave me, Dean."

Dean remembered countless nights, alone in the Impala, cursing his brother, hating him for abandoning him, for not caring enough. He took all of that back.

"Sammy, I'm fine."

"You almost weren't! I've already lost Jess, if I lose you too I—"

Dean gathered him into a hug. "Easy, wo didi. Easy."

Sam's tears were hot on his bare shoulder. "Don't leave me too. Please," he whispered.

"Promise." Dean closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of his heart beating, as strong as ever. "I promise."


A/N:

kuai yi dianr-hurry up

ni ne?-you?

kuai-quickly

xianzai-now