Chapter Eleven: Lazarus
Dean and Cas had a mostly silent trip to the Lazarus Pit. Charlie and Jody were making the trip from the bunker with Sam in the backseat. Dean refused to think of it as "Sam's body," because that brought back the fact that Sam's heart and soul weren't there anymore. It would be back soon; that was all that mattered.
Several hours after taking off from Price's place, Dean pulled the impala by the small pond in the middle of an abandoned campground. According to Cas, the water had special healing properties. God sometimes left gifts like healing springs for people. While he could humor his angry thoughts and yell at God for days on end, Dean decided that for today, he'd accept the gift without complaint. It was going to bring Sam back, so he couldn't complain today.
Now he just wished there was a way to bring Cas back. The angel riding shotgun had been asleep for the entire ride. Cas wasn't vocal about his suffering, but Dean could tell that his Grace was fading every single day. As soon as Sam was back, Dean was going to devote all his time to trying to save Cas. But for the time being, he just let Cas sleep.
About an hour later, Jody and Charlie pulled up in a beat-up Honda Civic. Jody was driving while Charlie had her nose in a book. When the car stopped, Charlie put down the book and immediately saw Dean sitting on the hood of his impala. She opened the door, stood up, and walked the short distance to give Dean a silent hug. The hunter wasn't too surprised by it since Charlie was pretty easy to read, but that didn't mean he knew how to react. He went through the motions and simply lifted his arms and lightly embraced her back.
As soon as she pulled away, Dean saw that her eyes were red but very dry. She must have been crying a while ago. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Jody had aged ten years in the past few days. He was scared to look in the mirror when it was all over, because he imagined he would look even worse.
"How are you doing?" Jody asked from beside her car.
"Fine," Dean said automatically. "Let's just do this."
Glancing around the car, Charlie noted Cas once more. "What's wrong with Cas?"
"…The usual," Dean responded. He hated to even say that, but none of them found any solutions to his problem in the past few months. They had been too focused on the Mark and now Cas was paying the price. "Go ahead and wake him up." He didn't bother explaining why he wouldn't do it himself. Instead, Dean walked over to Jody's car and opened the back doors.
There was Sam, half sitting and half lying down on the back seat. The seatbelt that had once kept him upright wasn't strong enough to support Sam's hefty frame for the whole car ride. Charlie and Jody had both sat up front for a reason; neither of them wanted to share the back seat with a lifeless body. Just looking at Sam and seeing how pale he was sent shivers down Dean's spine.
"Dean, you don't have to," Jody's voice rang in his ears. "We can carry…"
"It's fine," Dean said numbly. "He's my brother. I can carry him." Actually, he was the only person who would carry Sam from this point on. The only reason that Jody and Charlie hefted Sam into the car before was because Dean wasn't there to do it. Now that he had his brother in his sight, Dean wasn't going to let even his closest friends too near. It was nothing personal, really—it was just how protective he was.
His hands undid the buckle and then grasped the sleeves that covered Sam's biceps. He slipped his arms under Sam and gently pulled the moose out of the vehicle and gently onto the ground. It took him a few moments, but he secured this grasp around Sam's large body and hefted him up into his arms.
Memories took over his mind as he numbly travelled to the water. When they were kids, there were so many occasions where Dean lifted Sam out of the car after a long drive and carried him into a motel bed. On some terrifying hunts, Sam hurt one of his legs and Dean had to carry him back to safety. Gangly as the kid used to be, he tripped over his legs way too easily and always got into trouble.
But they had lived through this exact situation before. When The Demon was after Sam and sent him off to his own version of the Hunger Games, Dean reached Sam just in time to see him die at the hands of Jake. It was the worst moment of his lift to have been so confident that his little brother was safe only to see him die in front of him instead.
For a long time, he had held onto Sam and rocked him back and forth while they sat in the mud. Then he did what was necessary and he carried his baby brother to a nearby building and laid him in bed. His body had been cold by that time, but not nearly as cold as it was now.
Sammy, this is the last time we're doing this. You hear me? We are not doing this again… Dean wouldn't survive if he had to carry his brother's lifeless body one more time.
Dean glanced back over his shoulder at the three who waited by the cars. They didn't bother saying anything to him or even moving and that was fine. Just being reminded that he wasn't alone was enough for him.
He waded out into the water, holding Sam in his arms and feeling the weight lessen as the water began to take Sam's weight off of his arms. He took them in until the water was up to his chest and Sam was comfortably floating in front of him.
Now all he could do was wait until Sam returned to him. At least, that was what he thought until he noticed a fifth being randomly appear in the clearing.
His first instinct was to do a double take, because even if it was really easy to recognize the person, they weren't exactly alive. There was no doubt, though. With that petite figure outlined by a leather jacket and blue jeans, long and straight black hair and eyes that could pierce or soothe, Dean knew that it could only be one person.
"Tessa?" He started slowly, speaking in disbelief. "I thought you were dead…"
"And when has that ever stopped anyone in the past?" Tessa, an angel of death, asked with an arched brow. "Death is very temporary, Dean, especially when you work for the horseman Death."
Dean and Cas had the…"pleasure," of meeting Death in the past, and his name wasn't one that they wanted to hear right now. Death humored the Winchesters every once in a while, but last time Dean saw him, he was trying to reap Sam after the trials. Jody and Charlie knew the stories—Charlie in particular knew about him from the novels she read by Chuck. "What's he got to do with anything?" Charlie demanded.
Tessa ignored her and continued to look at Dean, as she had since the very beginning. She did, however, grace them with an answer. "Death is in the veil, reaping Sam's soul again as we speak. But if Sam's soul does make it back to his body, I'm here to send it back where it belongs."
"That's not going to happen," Castiel said firmly. That, finally, got the attention of the reaper. "You can only reap the souls of those that are close to death. When Sam returns-"
"—He'll be on the verge of death," Tessa finished. "The wound in his back is still there and he'll begin bleeding out once more. The Lazarus Pit won't heal him enough."
"Then I will," Cas challenged. They all knew what that meant for Cas. If he exerted too much energy, it was possible he'd never be able to recover. Actually, he would probably keel over and die right there.
"Cas," Dean began to protest.
"You won't be able to get close enough," Tessa said. "I'll reap you before then." The air suddenly became suffocatingly thin, just because of that one sentence. "You're near enough to death that I can take you right now. You'll die before you can save Sam, and Sam's soul will return to heaven."
"Why are you doing this, Tessa!?" Dean snapped in frustration. "Why do you want them dead so badly?"
Tessa sent Dean a chilling stare. "What's dead should stay dead. I thought you of all people would know that, Dean."
While Dean halted at her words, Castiel drew his angel blade. It slipped out of his sleeve and into his hand, which held it with his feeble strength. "All I have to do is survive until Sam returns. I'll heal him," Castiel swore.
"Cas…" Jody tried.
"There's no time to argue!" Cas snapped. "Let me save Sam. Then I can rest in peace."
Dean gripped Sam's body tightly in the water, staring at all of his friends on land. Castiel was absolutely serious and devoted to this cause. Everyone thought they were ready to do whatever to save Sam, but now that they were near the finish line and Cas's life was on the line, none of them were so sure. But all their possibilities were exhausted. This was their only way to save Sam, because every day that they spent searching for answers, Sam's body was growing worse.
Sam or Cas? Cas's life for Sam's? Or was Cas destined to die no matter what they did, and this way, they at least had Sam back?
There wasn't time to think through everything. Tessa drew her weapon and lunged at Cas only for Jody to shove the angel out of the way. While he toppled to the ground and dropped his blade, Charlie picked up the angel blade and stood ready. Charlie was going to square off against a reaper and Dean had a feeling that if they took too long, Cas wasn't the only soul that was going to be reaped. Tessa would right all the wrongs and take all their souls since they cheated death so many times.
Sammy had to hurry back, or they were all coming to him.
*…*…*…*…*…*
The veil was exactly the way that Sam expected it to be: a pitch-black whirlpool of death and despair. He couldn't see a foot in front of him, let alone the exit he was supposed to be working his way towards. His arms stretched out before him as he fought against some unseen pressure and stepped forward. Along with the cries of the dead, there was a howling in his ears that wouldn't go away.
It was like he was standing in the middle of a tornado, fighting against the wind and trying to walk towards some kind of haven. It was a safe comparison, because he knew what it felt like to fight against hurricane-force winds.
He was just eleven years old and on one of his first hunting trips. It was just him and his dad; Dean was back at the hotel because he was sick. Of course Dean had insisted that he was fine to go along, but John ordered Dean to stay back. Sam was smart enough to know that John didn't tell Dean to stay back because of his sickness; he told him to stay back so he wouldn't coddle Sam on the hunt. How twisted was it that his own dad wanted to shatter his innocence so early on? He couldn't see that John was trying to toughen him up so he could live; he saw cruelty. And all he felt was fear. Intense, suffocating fear.
That fear was most prominent when he and Dad got separated from each other in the woods of Pennsylvania. It was a summer's night and the weather was taking a turn for the worse. There was a hurricane coming in from the coast and it was on top of them in the middle of the hunt. Even John was willing to admit how dangerous it was, but that didn't mean he was going to stop the hunt. He ordered Sam to run back to the car while he finished the hunt.
Unfortunately, the storm completely turned Sam around. He couldn't find the right direction to go in, let alone the car itself.
The veil around him began to shift around him. Instead of being purely black, the air above him began to sizzle and boom with the rumbles of thunder. The world literally became his memories, with the visibility brightening slightly with the gray sky. Trees all around him groaned in the wind, bending, swaying, and cracking with every punch they took. Sam himself reverted and began to experience the whole situation as if it was brand new to him.
"Dad?" his voice squeaked. It was no longer the voice of a man in his thirties; his voice and his body de-aged so that he was once more eleven years old. Eleven years old, trapped in a terrible storm, and terribly alone and afraid. "Dad!" Thunder boomed over him, hiding his voice. He was panicked and flighty; all he wanted to do was get back to the car like his dad told him to do, but he couldn't. What if the car wasn't even there anymore? What if it was crushed by a tree or something?
You gotta calm down! his mind shouted at him. If his dad saw him like this, he wouldn't be happy that Sam was so childish and afraid. Just think. If you can't get to the car, what then?
Then, he spoke back to himself, I just need to find some shelter. I gotta find some place safe to stay until the storm blows over, and then I'll get back to Dad.
The silence in his mind was agreement. Now that he had a goal, he could move on. Raising his hands in front of his face, he pressed onward, fighting against the wind and ignoring the swaying trees the best that he could. Shelter, he told himself again and again. Shelter…Shelter…
It took some time to press forward, but eventually, he saw a clearing in front of him. It was just an old log cabin—more like a log shed with the size of it. The tree branches that laid on top of it were probably there because of the storm. The dozens of trees that surrounded the whole area would probably crush the whole thing soon, but the way Sam saw it, it was better to have some kind of protection over him, even if it was just an old, beat up log cabin.
He pressed onward with his greatest strength until he reached that plank of wood that was the door. When he opened it, he saw a tiny red table with green chairs, a rusty refrigerator, and a kitchen that looked like it never made it past the sixties. The area on the right, though, was much cleaner.
The living room was clear of dust and had semi-modern furniture. Two leather chairs sat catty-corner to each other with a tiny end table stuck between them. The stone fireplace that sat behind them was lit with a roaring fire.
A man in black stood there, staring at the fire while Sam stared at his back. He held a cane tightly in his left hand, though he hardly seemed to need it for support.
"Come in, my boy," the strange man said before Sam could utter a word. The lean, gaunt man turned around and looked at Sam without looking startled or surprised. He didn't even raise his voice over the storm, yet Sam heard him perfectly well. "Have a seat."
Sam was normally much more cautious around strangers, but something about that man felt familiar. He almost seemed…kind. And since the storm had been anything but kind to him, Sam was ready to soak up whatever friendliness was presented to him. He inched forward and sat down in one of the leather chairs, shifting around and realizing that it was far too large for him.
The man walked around the chairs and sat down in the own nearby, easily settling himself and propping his cane against the chair.
"Can I wait here for the storm to end?" Sam asked after a few moments. "My Dad's probably looking for me…"
"Sam…" he said in a tone that was almost gentle. "Your father isn't coming."
No. That's not true. Dad was often absent when they needed him, but when it came to a hunt, he always made sure he and Dean were okay. It would take some time, but his dad was going to come and find him soon.
"He's coming," Sam declared in confidence. "He'll be here…"
"I need you to listen to me closely." The man leaned forward in his seat, compelling Sam to do the same. He spoke softly as his words flowed like honey. "This is a dream of sorts, Sam. You've lived through this experience before. In order to be released from it, you must recall how it ended."
Sam stared at the man and blinked slowly. That was something pretty big to swallow. The storm outside wasn't real, not right now. What kind of nonsense was that? But then…it fit, sort of. He was beginning to get a sense of déjà vu from the whole thing. Besides, this building and this man were too familiar, but he knew he never met him before or saw this place.
My life's weird, he reminded himself. I have to consider every possibility. He closed his eyes and gripped the armrests as he tried to recall everything. He had been in the middle of the storm, trying desperately to find some sort of shelter. It was so windy and dark, though, that he couldn't. He knelt down underneath a tree and wrapped his arms around his legs and sat there for hours. He rocked back and forth and silently cried while whimpering for his Dad and even Dean. The next morning when the storm was over, Dad and Dean searched the whole area for him.
"Dean found me," Sam remembered. "He found me and…" That was right! He wrapped his jacket around him and carried him back to the car. He set him in the back seat and advised him to calm down as much as he could, because Dad was coming back soon and he wouldn't be happy to see Sam so scared. And indeed, John wasn't happy. That wasn't the part that Sam was going to focus on now.
Dean saved him. Just like he always did.
"You've returned to your former self," the man said from his chair.
Sam opened his eyes and saw his hands grasping the armrests. Those hands were much larger than they were just two minutes ago, but it didn't startle him. Bouncing back into his thirty-something year old body was just as easy and natural as the transition to eleven had been. The difference was that now he was living in the present, and presently, he knew who the man next to him was.
"Why did you help me?" Sam asked the man whom he now recognized to be Death.
"I have my motives," Death responded. "Right now, you should be focusing on a different question."
That was what he was focusing on, and why he asked the question he did. Death was here for a certain reason. It was the same reason he had last time they met in this cabin… "You're here to reap me," Sam stated without question.
"I am," Death confirmed.
"Can you make an exception? Again?" Sam asked as humbly as he could. He realized that Death most likely wasn't happy with him, considering just how often Sam escaped Death's grasp. It was unnatural to be alive so long and to have been on the brink of death so many times. He knew that it was long past his time to go and that Death didn't owe him a single thing, but he still had to ask. "Please."
"Sam Winchester, you intrigue me."
Sam blinked, sitting up straighter in shock. The immortal, infinite being of death just called him interesting. That was the last thing he expected to hear.
"You and your brother both do, but don't tell that to Dean," Death advised. "Dean is already too cocky for my taste."
"O-okay…"
Death stared into the kitchen, though he surely wasn't thinking about Chicago pizza or any other kind of food. Dean was the one who always offered food to Death to placate him, not Sam. The thought struck him as funny, but there was so much crazy in his life that even the idea of offering Death pizza wasn't off limits.
"You and your brother really should desire peace by now with all that you've gone through, yet you keep throwing yourselves into the stickiest situations. Why?"
Because we're insane, Sam responded mentally. There were some days he wondered if that was true, because who in their right mind would willingly inflict so much pain on themselves? That wasn't the answer, though—not really. "Because," Sam began slowly. "No matter how painful our job is, it's our job. We were taught not to leave anything half done."
"You'll be sorely disappointed when your time to die comes," Death stated. "You and Dean will never see all the monsters gone."
"I know," Sam agreed. "But we're going to make a dent in it as much as we can." Wait…he said when my time to die comes… "Is it not my time to die yet?"
"It's past time," Death responded. "But it would be boring to reap you now when you have so much potential. I want to witness the world you envision. So you may go."
Sam stared at Death with wide eyes. He had Death's permission to live. He thought he would have to fight Death tooth and nail to get out, but Death practically gave him his blessing. "Thank you…" Sam said in awe. "Thanks…"
"You still have a long way to return to life, Sam," Death warned. "When you return to the veil, you'll continue to recall some of our worst memories and experience them anew. In order to escape them, you must remember the outcome. I won't be there to remind you of your task."
"Okay, yeah, got it," Sam nodded. He rose to his feet, glancing at the door. He already experienced Heaven, Purgatory, Hell, and Earth. As long as he stayed strong, he knew he could make it through whatever the veil threw at him.
"And another thing. When you return to your body, you'll still be fatally wounded. Fight against that wound and the reaper there to collect your soul." Okay, that doesn't sound nearly as easy. He thought with Death's blessing, getting back to life would be a cinch, but he thought wrong. "This is one final test for you to pass in order to assure you have the right to live. Don't fail, Sam."
"I won't," Sam swallowed. The finish line kept drifting further and further out of sight, but he knew it was there, and Dean was waiting. That was all the motivation he needed to press on.
Sam walked to the front door that he entered through, setting a hand on the knob as he pulled the door towards him. He took in a breath to calm his nerves and take in the strength that he needed in order to accomplish these last tasks. When he finally stepped outside, he could have sworn he heard Death's voice follow after him.
Good luck, my boy.
*…*…*…*…*…*
Dean kept a hold of Sam's floating body, setting one hand on his chest just to keep Sam from drifting anywhere. He practically had a death grip on the kid's shirt because of what he was witnessing on land. The 3 on 1 match against Tessa wasn't going well. Charlie was sitting dazed against one of the trees because of a blow to the head and Cas kept being driven closer to the water because Jody now wielded the blade and squared off against Tessa. Jody was tough, but a swordsman she wasn't. It was only a matter of time before she fell, and then Cas….and then Sam….
Sam's body suddenly spasmed beneath Dean's arm. He briefly sank under the water before his face rose out of the water and Sam cried out in alarm.
"Sam!" Dean shouted, grasping the front of Sam's shirt even more tightly because the kid was so squirrely. As soon as he heard Dean's voice, Sam's eyes bolted open and locked onto his above him. With just one glance, Dean could tell that Sam was in a world of pain. If they didn't heal him quick…
But Cas! If Cas…
Sam lifted one of his hands and grasped Dean's wrist tightly, effectively pulling Dean's eyes back down to him. "Hold on, Sammy," Dean said, assuming that it was the pain that made him reach out. Cas was already running over while Jody literally threw herself in Tessa's path to slow her down.
Then, Sam pried Dean's hand open and placed something inside of it. He twisted his hand and looked down at the item with wide eyes. It was a tiny little bottle with a glowing white mist inside of it.
Grace, Dean immediately thought. Cas's Grace. Sammy, how'd you get a hold of this?! It didn't really matter now, because it meant that all of them were walking away alive today. "CAS!" Dean shouted, tossing the bottle to the angel who was in the water to his ankles. Dean began to drag Sam closer to shore while the later suppressed a groan of pain.
Cas's natural reflexes helped him catch the item even though he was equally stunned to see what it was that was given to him. He stared at it for only seconds before he opened the bottle and began to inhale his Grace.
"Everybody close your eyes!" Dean ordered. He set a hand over Sammy's eyes and briefly glanced at the three women. Charlie was standing up and ready to fight again, but with Dean's order, she lifted her arm to her eyes. Jody wisely did the same, though she kept the blade tightly in her grip.
"No!" Tessa yelled as she took notice of the scene.
It was too late, though. Cas stood up taller as his former strength returned to him. His eyes began to glow with bluish-white fury as the air around him cackled in power. And then it was all released. A shockwave of light ran through the area, creating waves on the dusty ground and in the water. Sammy did cry out in pain from that movement, but at that point, it was such a relief to hear Sammy cry out that Dean didn't flinch.
When Dean opened his eyes, he saw that Tessa was completely gone. Banished from the scene—not dead. Charlie and Jody lowered their arms and looked around, undoubtedly confused about what just happened but equally relieved to see that Tessa was gone.
"Cas," Dean called then.
He hardly needed to call. Cas was already shifting through the water as quickly as he could. Dean pulled Sam closer to shore with him, stopping when Sam's back was resting on the ground of the shallow part of the pond to meet Cas halfway. His happy thoughts from a minute ago were gone when he saw the dull expression on Sam's face. For once, he would have been happy to see Sam in extreme pain, because that meant he wasn't so close to death.
"I gotcha, Sammy," Dean said while Cas set a hand on his brother's forehead. "You ain't goin' anywhere, you hear me?"
Sammy looked up at him in clear pain and understanding. It was the look of trust that Sammy always showed him when they were growing up. Whatever the issue was, Sam knew that Dean was looking out for him and that as long as he was around, nothing bad was going to happen to him. He made that promise to Sammy over and over again when the kid had night terrors and faced monsters and demons. That promise was just as true today as it was back then.
As Cas's hand glowed white, Sam began to regain some color and his natural warmth. His expression began to show more awareness, but his eyes still showed extreme exhaustion.
The lug was alive, though. He was really alive.
"He's fully healed," Castiel said as he pulled his hand away.
Dean glanced at Cas, and then back at Sam, who had closed his eyes and looked like he was about to pass out. "Cas?" he checked. "Why's he…"
"His body is fine," he explained. "It's his very soul that is so weary. All he needs is rest."
If that was the case, then there was no point in leaving Sam lying in some pond. "Can you walk, Sasquatch?" Dean quietly asked his little brother.
"Yeah…" Sam breathed.
"Then up we go." Dean raised Sam's torso and wrapped one of Sam's arms around his shoulders before his arm went around Sam's lower back. The kid was like a ginormous ragdoll only worse because he was also soaking wet and semiconscious.
Dean dragged Sam up to his feet, feeling his brother lean so heavily into him that it was like he could let alone hold himself up, let alone walk. But when Dean took the first step, Sam did too. And the next one. And the one after. Charlie and Jody stood by the side, bruised at battered, as they watched Dean half-drag Sam to the impala. Neither of them moved because they knew that Dean had it all under control, and he wouldn't want anyone touching Sam for now.
Charlie did take the initiative to run forward and open the front passenger side door of the impala for Dean and he didn't protest. He gently pushed Sam inside and readjusted him to he'd stay sitting upright before he did the buckle.
"Home?" Charlie asked once Dean backed up and shut the door.
"Home," he confirmed.
*…*…*…*…*…*
Chapter's late, I know. Probably has loads of errors because I did very basic proofreading. But hey, I made up for it by having it be a long one! Hope you enjoyed the chapter and the story as a whole; we don't have too much longer to go now.
Peanut