Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Note: I planned to have this up yesterday, but apparently you don't get to go three weeks on a sum total of seventy hours' sleep without suffering some consequences. But it's here now. Which is the important thing, right? ;-)

Thanks to Eavis, Ellie Jane Farrell, SkeksisGirl, jafreckleslover, jolynn3277, Starfan1245, cold kagome, Katy M VT, sarah, Kathryn Marie Black, XspriteyX, AlwaysTardy, Sparkiebunny, jayfeather63, twomoms, Kailene, cookjar, SPN Mum, TinTin11, The Lilac Elf of Lothlorien, confizzled, godsdaughter77, Twinchester Angel, SandyDee84, teal-lover, anonymous, Scribble2Much, naran2786, BonanzaRocks, Aoi-Moku, IritIlan, APRIL26, OutTonightAndForever, MysteryMadchen, Lilyoda, BranchSuper, anonymous and Smoochynose for the reviews. (Wow! Don't think I've ever had this many reviews for one chapter before! You guys are the best!)

And many thanks, as always, to Cheryl, for being the voice of reason and sanity.

And now… I believe we were about to have a chick-flick moment.


Chapter VIII: A Time to Embrace, and a Time to Refrain from Embracing

"Sam…"

Dean was kneeling, hunched over himself, arms wrapped around his stomach like he was going to be sick.

"Dean?"

Dean didn't respond. He only made a high, anguished, keening noise that tore at my heart. God, for Dean to make a sound like that, he had to be in some serious pain. But he'd been fine a moment ago… What the hell was going on? Had the amulet done something to him? Was there a curse on it in this world?

"Dean," I repeated, grabbing his shoulder and shaking it. "Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean hunched lower. The top of his head brushed my ribs. I was starting to freak out: I couldn't see any blood or bruises, and he didn't seem to be running a fever. What was wrong with him?

"Sammy," Dean mumbled, fingers fisting in my jacket –

I realized he was touching me. Actually touching me. And I was touching him.

Dean's hands twisted tighter, the amulet slipped from his fingers, and abruptly the contact was gone.

"No," Dean said frantically. "No, I saw you. You were just here. Sam! Sammy, you – you come back here right the hell now. Sammy! Sam! Sam, you listen to me. You –" He stopped short, suddenly realizing that he'd dropped the amulet. He picked it up again –

And his hands found their way back to my jacket. After they'd put the amulet around his neck.

"Dean?" I couldn't keep a tremor from the word.

"It was a dream, right?" he said, his voice higher than usual. "Tell me it was a dream. Please, please, please tell me it was a dream."

"What are you talking about?" In response, Dean pushed my jacket off and laid his hand flat on my chest. "Dean?" I prodded. "Ummm… Dude, why are you groping me?"

"I can't feel it." He sounded forlorn. "I can't feel it. I can't feel it. This can't be – promise me it's a dream, Sam!" He grabbed my shirt and shook. "Promise me!"

"Dean?"

"I just got you back," he said tearfully. "I just got you back, Sammy. Please tell me this is a dream."

Then I realized what had happened. The amulet had restored Dean's memories of our world, but not taken away his memories of this world. He'd panicked, felt for a heartbeat and not found it, and now he was freaking out.

"Dean, it's not a dream, but –"

"No," Dean choked. "No. No, no, no. Sammy, you can't – I can't –"

Dean was starting to hyperventilate. I cursed my stupid choice of words. "Dean, calm down. It's OK. It's not permanent. OK? It's not a dream, but it's not permanent."

It didn't calm him. "But – you're a ghost. And I – Sammy –"

"Dean." Enough was enough. We were going to have a chick-flick moment before my brother worked himself into a seizure, and if he didn't like it he was going to have to suck it up.

I pulled him close. Dean fought it – he was determined to be miserable – but, no matter what he says to the contrary, he is not stronger than I am. I pushed his head onto my shoulder – nothing to hear there; no lack of a heartbeat to freak him out – and waited for his breathing to calm down.

"Sam," he mumbled at last. "What's going on? Are you really…"

"In this world, yeah. But this isn't our world, dude. It's one of Gabriel's games."

"What?" Dean demanded, backing away to stare at me in shock. "But why… He never does anything without a reason. What point is he trying to prove this time?"

Ah. This was going to be the hard part. "He wants to make this permanent," I said. "That is – he wants to arrange it so I die instead of Mom. But he needs my permission to do that, apparently, and this is by way of… encouragement." I shrugged, trying to keep my voice light. "You know, so I can see how much I'll be… helping… everyone else by letting Gabriel make the trade."

While I'd been speaking, Dean's expression had gone from disbelief to outrage to pure fury.

"How is he still alive?"

"I don't know. I think God brought him back. He was saying something about his daddy –"

"Well, his daddy can –"

"Dean."

Dean glared at me. "Son of a bitch. No wonder he wiped my memory when he shoved us here. He must've known I would kill him."

"Dean –"

"As soon as we're back in our world, I'm going to get hold of every angel-killing sword that still exists and then I'm going to track him down and stab him with all of them. You know, just in case one isn't enough to do it." He looked at me. "And we are getting home, aren't we, Sam? You're not thinking of letting the son of a bitch have his way, are you?"

"Dean –"

"Sam, right now if you say anything other than, 'Yes, Dean, I'm not an idiot and I won't say yes to Gabriel,' I'm going to kill you."

"I'm already dead," I felt compelled to point out. The look Dean gave me would have melted glass. "I'm sorry. That wasn't funny."

"No. It wasn't. Dude, do you have any idea – I touched the damn thing and I remembered everything and you were freaking dead. I thought – I thought I'd lost you. Destiny's done with us now, Sammy. If I lose you, I don't get you back. And you're making jokes about it."

I flushed. Dean was right. I knew, better than anyone, how traumatic it could be. "I'm sorry, Dean. It was stupid."

"Damn right it was. I was freaked out and you thought it was time to be smart."

"I'm sorry. Didn't you want to go out?"

"Dude, you look like crap. I don't think you should be going anywhere. How about we stay here and you get some rest?"

That was too much. I'd tried to hold it together; I'd tried to be strong, but that – it was just too much. I was tired beyond belief. It had just been proven to me that my existence had made Dean's life miserable in every way possible. I didn't know what Gabriel was planning but I was sure it wouldn't be good.

I couldn't keep up even the pretence of self-restraint.

"I can't," I said. (And, no, Dean, I did not wail.) "I've tried and I've tried but I just can't. I can't sleep and I can't – it doesn't –"

"Whoa… Sammy, calm down."

"It never works," I went on, knowing I sounded like a hysterical child and long past caring. "I thought – if I hadn't been around, if it'd been me instead of Mom – I mean, I never said anything because I knew you'd jump on me if I did –"

"Damn right I would."

"But I thought – and can you blame me? Mom wouldn't have died and Dad wouldn't have died. Just like here. And everything was fine – other than the Apocalypse, I mean, but I guess the angels were going to have their fun anyway. You were happy and you had Mom and Dad and the little brother you always wanted and – and then I came along and it all got screwed up again. I didn't mean to but I always do! And I thought if I'd died instead of Mom it'd be better for you, and it was, but then I messed it up and maybe if I'd just never been born –"

"Sam, shut up."

I blinked. At some point – I had no idea when – Dean had shoved me back. His shoulder was under my cheek and his arm was supporting my spine.

"I get that you can't sleep," Dean went on, "but you can rest, right? Relax and stop worrying for one damned minute?"

"But –"

"I'm here." Dean rubbed my back. "And I know this sucks, but we're going to figure this out. Just relax and breathe."

"I can't breathe," I mumbled miserably.

"OK… Let's try it another way."

Dean grabbed my hand and laid it on his chest, breathing slowly, evenly and deeply. It was stupid – and girly – and it made no sense – but, somehow, feeling the rise and fall of his chest calmed me down. I'd been through hell in the past few days, and now I had my big brother back.

"OK now, kiddo?"

"Yeah… Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Just relax. I'm here. We're going to take care of this."

Dean was just awesome. That was the only possible explanation. That was the only way I could've gone from a full-blown panic attack to complete calm in just a couple of minutes.

"How touching."

I groaned and pushed away from Dean. Letting my brother comfort me in private was one thing; I was damned if I was going to be caught snuggling in front of Gabriel.

"What the hell?" I asked, scowling at him. "What do you want now?"

"I came to check on you." Gabriel grimaced. "I certainly wasn't expecting to interrupt a love-fest. So – seen enough yet, Sam? Satisfied that it is better for everyone you know if you agree to make a quiet exit before Azazel can… infect you?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up. I just got him calmed down. What do you want?" He paused. "Nice vessel, by the way. New?"

Gabriel smirked. "A very devout banker. It works for me. Inconspicuous. Unlike you and your overgrown brother."

"The answer's still no," I said. Dean looked at me sharply, Gabriel's smirk widened – and I had to admit my voice didn't sound nearly as confident in my own ears as it had the first time I'd told Gabriel that.

"But you're thinking about it, aren't you, Sammy?"

"Don't call me Sammy."

"Dean, may I call him Sammy?"

"No," Dean said. "What do you want and what do we have to do to make this end?"

"Get Sammy to say yes, Dean. That's all you have to do. You get the good life with your parents and the little brother you've always wanted, Sam gets Heaven, and everyone's happy."

"No. Sam's not saying yes to you."

"Isn't that his decision?"

"Yeah, and I'm making it for him."

"Being a little selfish, aren't you, Dean? You think you want precious little Sammy around, and so you're going to force him to subject himself to the demon blood and the visions and the hunting life and Michael and Lucifer, when he could so easily have himself sent straight up to Heaven before any of it happens."

"I know I want Sammy around, and you can get out of here before I make you eat your own wings."

Gabriel turned to me and started to tell me about all the wonderful things Dean could have if I weren't around. I wasn't listening to him or to Dean's protests.

I'd just realized something.

This was wrong. This whole thing was all wrong. It had been right there – right in front of me – all along, and, being the idiot I was, I'd totally missed it.

Gabriel, for all the help he'd given us with Lucifer, was an angel, and I was under no illusions that he'd try to make our lives better out of pure kindness. At some subconscious level I'd known that this was about the Apocalypse, but it was only now that it struck me that –

"Who is it?" I asked Gabriel, interrupting his detailed description of Dean's senior prom.

"Who is what?"

"Someone's holding a gun to your head. You don't play games without a reason. And this game? It's the Apocalypse, isn't it? You want to bring back the Apocalypse and for some reason you think getting me out of the way will do that."

"I know getting you out of the way will do that –"

"But that doesn't make any sense. You didn't want the Apocalypse any more than we did."

"Maybe I changed my mind."

"Even so. You said it yourself – you follow the rules. And one of the rules for Tricksters is that if someone beats you then it's over. You don't get to keep calling them back for do-overs until you win. Someone's forcing you to do this. Who?"

"You forget yourself, Sammy. I am the Archangel Gabriel. Do you really think someone could be forcing me to do something against my will?"

"I'm pretty sure someone is. There are things more powerful than Archangels. Who is it? It can't be Raphael. He can't be strong enough to force you to do his dirty work. And Death gave Dean his ring willingly."

Gabriel's eyes glinted. "Very clever, Sam. Keep at it. I'm sure you'll work it out. But I didn't come here to listen to your conspiracy theories. I came to see if you're finally going to be sensible, and since it appears that you're not… I have things to do."

A flutter of wings and Gabriel was gone.

Dean turned to me. "Who do you think it is?"

"I don't know. It can't be one of the angels – you remember how Gabriel threw Cas around? He's too strong for that. And if it isn't Death… I don't know who it could be."

"Right. Well, you were right about one thing, Sammy – I know you're tired, but we need to go out. We need to figure this out somewhere we won't be interrupted. I was expecting Dave or Mom to walk in any minute when Gabriel was here – and that would've been a bitch to explain."

"Yeah," I said wearily. "What if someone sees me?"

"I don't think anyone else is going to be able to see you, Sam. I'm wearing the amulet."

That led to an awkward pause. I could tell Dean was looking for words to explain why he'd done it – or maybe to apologize – but I really didn't want to hear it. There was enough to deal with in this world. The residual issues from our reality could wait until we were home.

I waved my hand through one of the roller skates on the floor, nodded when it passed right through.

"I guess you're right. I'm still a spirit. Let's go."


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