Although I am now the proud owner of seasons 1-4 on DVD, I am still not the owner of Sam and Dean. I know, it is unfortunate, but Sam is probably grateful he doesn't belong to me after what I put him through.
.~o()o~.
"CAS!" Dean shouted as he lunged forward, reaching for the angel's sword.
"Naughty, naughty Dean," Tahariel spoke, hand outstretched. Dean felt himself stop dead, unable to move a single muscle. "Wow, Steve really doesn't like you, perhaps because of the part you play in this coming war. You know, you were never meant to be involved in this. I have no issue with you so long as you play your part, but you would have to be difficult. Heaven has nothing but problems with you. Maybe my other brothers believe you will do the right thing in the end, but I think the famed Winchester stubbornness will hold out, leaving me with one course of action. If you won't let Michael make you his bitch, then you will be Steve's, and he doesn't feel the need to leave you as he found you."
Dean struggled harder, but the hold on him was unrelenting, he could only watch as the placid face of the angel twisted and darkened, eyes turning coal black and the demon taking over. He hadn't seen or heard any sign of Castiel since he had left his sword buried in Tahariel's chest. He had one comfort, as long as he kept the demon. . .angel. . .whatever occupied, it wasn't focused on Sam.
"We'll start slow. I don't want you to finish early," Steve said, walking slowly to where Dean stood.
"Trust me when I say that has never been an issue," Dean shot back. "But I must say, you're not my type." Dean couldn't resist peeking over the demon's shoulder to where Sam still lay on the floor, he had his arm flung out beside him, the tips of his fingers mere inches away from the chisel. The hammer still lay beside him, but the chisel seemed just out of reach. Dean wanted to watch, but he had to keep the demon from noticing. It took everything in him not to cry out an encouragement to Sam, but the only sound that came out of his mouth was a loud grunt as Steve's fist slammed into his stomach.
Soon Dean couldn't even concentrate on Sam anymore. His whole world had narrowed down to the breathy gasps coming from his mouth and the sound of solid fist hitting solid muscle and bone. He couldn't hear, he could barely see and still the fists kept flying. It stopped suddenly and Dean was left struggling for air, unable to double over and curl his arms around his stomach the way he longed to, simly forced to stand there as his breaths grew slower and his vision cleared.
When he came back to awareness of his surroundings, Tahariel was back and standing there, just watching him. "You have always been the strong one, the one your brother relied on, your father's perfect little soldier. Nothing fazes you, nothing frightens you. Things happen that would incapacitate any other man and you shake it off like water off a duck's back. Even now, I have beaten you nearly to unconsciousness and there is no crying, no screaming from Dean Winchester, just manly grunts and deep breaths. Tell me, Dean, doesn't it get too exhausting, pretending to be someone you're not?"
"Hey, what you see is what you get. Like it or not, pal, this is who I am," Dean struggled to speak through his swelling throat.
"Still with the lies," Tahariel taunted. "I know the truth, the brokenness inside, how sometimes you can hardly stand without shattering, terrified that your brother will leave you and become a monster, terrified you will go back to hell and Sam will be king, holding within him the poison of a fallen angel, not your brother any longer, just Lucifer's skin. I know everything. I know that if I killed Sam now, there would be part of you that is relieved, relieved that Sam will be redeemed, knowing that I saved him from damnation."
"NO! You're wrong. Sam is my brother. I am going to save him and he is going to live," Dean shouted.
"I wish you were right, but you aren't the one in control here, I am, and I say that Sam dies. If you're a good little boy, I'll let you join him."
There was a rough gasping and the sound of rocks falling from the edge of the platform. Cas struggled up over the edge and lay there gasping for just a second. Tahariel turned to look at him, raising his arm to obliterate the battered angel, but Castiel was too quick. His hand flung outward and for a crucial second, Dean was free from his invisible bonds.
"DEAN! NOW!" Cas yelled and Dean reached into the waistband of his pants for Sam's knife.
.~o()o~.
Sam breathed carefully through his nose. His outstretched fingers were bumping the blade of the chisel, if only it was an inch or two closer. Pain shot through his side at every movement. He could hardly breathe and the wound kept him from stretching as far as normal. He looked over at his brother, but knew there could be no help from that direction. Dean was held upright. Sam could see the strain on his face as he struggled. Their eyes met for a moment, barely even a glance but long enough to say so much.
"I'm sorry," from Sam.
"You can get through this," from Dean. "I've got your back. I'll save you."
"No," the denial and determination in Sam's eyes was clear. "This time, I'll save YOU."
Not a word was said out loud and, a fraction of a second later, Dean's eyes rolled into the back of his head as Steve hit him the first time.
Sam quit trying to protect his side and reached with his whole body. He was one millimetre closer to his goal, then two. He could feel warm blood running down his side and the coldness of unconsciousness began to steal over him. He bit his lip fiercely, not wanting to cry out and alert Steve to what he was doing. Not that it seemed Steve would have noticed. The demon's whole being was focused on beating the man that stood before him.
Sam inched his way closer to the chisel as he watched blood spill from Dean's lip. His fingers nearly managed to hook over the edge as Dean's cheekbone split, adding more to the steady stream that coated his face. Sam was pulling the chisel toward himself when he heard the crack of Dean's nose breaking.
"Hold on big brother," he wept silently as he finally managed to wrap his hand around the chisel and pick it up. His next impossible step was to sit up. He was dizzy from blood loss but time was not on his side. He shook uncontrollably as he used his elbows and abdominal muscles to pull himself upright. For a moment, he was unsure if he could even grasp the hammer and chisel, much less get himself out. Dean's strangled yelp spurred him on as Steve drove the flat of his hand straight into Dean's throat.
Sam began to hammer furiously, ignoring the gashes and bruises that were appearing on his legs from his recklessness. He had cleared his knees and half his calves before he nearly wept in frustration. He couldn't bend any farther forward and he couldn't pull free.
The sound of rocks clattering broke through his failing consciousness as Castiel crawled up over the edge. With an exhausted wave of the angel's hand, Sam's feet were free.
Sam barely noticed the angel shouting at Dean. "DEAN! NOW!" He was already moving, adrenaline overcoming the blood loss and the pain. The only thought left to pound in his brain was to save his brother. He scooped up Castiel's sword from where it had fallen and lunged toward the back of the angel, toward the back of the demon and the man that once was a hunter but had lost his way. With the absolute last of his strength, he thrust it into the back of his enemy, hoping against hope that this time, it would be different.
At that very moment, Dean's arms were freed. He reached back to where Sam's knife was tucked into his waistband, the knife Ruby had given them, the only thing they had that could kill a demon, besides the Colt. He pulled it free and in one smooth movement, shoved it into Steve's heart just as Sam's thrust pierced Tahariel's heart. There was a moment of complete silence. Sam and Dean hardly dared to breathe as the man between them, one eye pure blue and clear, the other black as coal, looked down to his chest where the knife was buried to its hilt and the tip of the angel blade shone like a silver beacon right beside it.
"I may have been wrong," he said breathlessly as light whited out its one blue eye, orange lightning shooting through his body, illuminating his skeleton from the inside. Sam and Dean closed their eyes as the light became brighter, now shining from the angel's mouth as the demon's body ignited in a blaze of sparks. There was a whoosh of heat and a light that left them seeing supernovas on their retinas even through their closed eyes. Then there was a clatter on metal on stone and all was darkness.
Sam and Dean opened their eyes. Castiel was suddenly standing next to them and there was light enough to see. Nothing was left of their enemy but a pile of ash and the two blades, scorched and blackened as if they had been held in a fire.
Sam reached across and wound his fingers into Dean's shirt, holding on for dear life as the world began to spin and he once again became aware of the blood still dripping from his side, his thigh and the other small nicks and gashes he had inflicted on himself.
Dean reached out at the same time, placing his suddenly heavy hand on Sam's shoulder, trying to reassure himself of his brother's presence. Sam's legs buckled beneath him and he began to fall. Dean didn't have the strength to hold him upright and they sank down to the stone, Sam's breathing growing fainter as his eyes slowly fluttered closed.
"Sammy! No, stay with me here." Dean yelled, lightly slapping his little brother's face. He looked up at Castiel in desperation. "Cas, hospital. . .NOW!"
.~o()o~.
There you go, let me know what you guys think! I want to thank Spockaholic and Joby87 for kicking me to get my butt in gear and update this story. One more chapter to go!