Chapter 21: Faith Restored

Inside the Inipi, Dean's screams penetrated the silence as his body bucked, that same eerie beam of light now pouring from inside out – banishing the darkness. The surge of energy knocked both Sam and John back, both men bewildered and stunned. The other occupants of the Inipi threw their arms up against the wall of light that burst forth from the convulsing man lying before them. No one had expected this.

Seeing Sam scrambling toward his brother, John grabbed his younger son's forearm and forcibly pulled him back down, hissing, "Sam, no."

The incredulous young man stared at his father before attempting to rip his arm out of his father's strong grip. "Dean is dying. Let go."

"No, Sam. If you interfere, you could make things worse," John said, tightening his hold, fear for both of his boys making him hesitant.

Looking back at Dean, Sam considered the possibility his dad could be right. His brother's body was still jerking uncontrollably, wracked by seizures and swathed in the mysterious pale light. Blood gushed from his nose as before, but this time, it was accompanied by a trickle of red from his ears as well. How could things be any worse, Sam thought. Dean needs me, I can feel it. His decision made, he tore his arm away and crawled over to his older brother, scooping him into his arms and settling him against his chest. Dean's head rolled back against his arm, his face contorted in pain.

"Dean, man, can you hear me? Say something!" Sam pleaded as he searched his brother's face for signs of recognition.

Following the young man's cue, John sidled up next to his sons, eagerly hoping that the eldest would favor the younger with a positive response.

The convulsions had finally subsided and Dean was still. After what seemed like an eternity to Sam, his older brother's eyes opened a crack, revealing a soft glowing blue instead of their normal shade of green. Forcing them open more fully, he peered up at his expectant sibling, whispering, "Sammy?"

"Yeah, man. It's me." Sam gently smiled at his brother. The youngest Winchester was determined not to show how freaked out his brother's luminous eyes were making him.

"It's still inside me – I can feel it," Dean breathed, his body shuddering in Sam's arms, sending small tremors rippling into his little brother.

"Dean, listen to me. You can beat it. It's only fighting so hard because it knows its time is up."

Behind them came the sounds of Jay and Joseph chanting as they resumed their fervent prayers, eyes closed and sweat trailing down their bodies. Yet, at that moment, the Winchester brothers were only aware of each other and their father next to them.

Dean nodded once and swallowed hard as, he too, renewed his efforts. His face was pinched in concentration and his body stilled as he reached within for strength and perseverance. Vaguely, Sam was aware of the warring emotions griping his brother – fear, anger, pain and uncertainty. A jab of concern poked at Sam as he realized, despite his brother's strong feelings, his awareness of the elder was barely a pin prick in his consciousness. What does that mean, Sam thought, his gut clenching.

Seemingly making up his mind about something, Dean shakily demanded, "Sam, help me up."

"Dean?" Sam couldn't believe what his sibling was asking.

"Just help me up!" Dean snapped sharply, too weak to argue the point.

Instantly, Sam obeyed, gathering his brother up against him and pushing them both upward. The IV tube halted their movement briefly, but suddenly John was there, picking up the bag with one hand as he helped the younger boy keep his balance with the other. Sam spared his father a quick, grateful glance.

Dean was leaning heavily against his little brother, not really standing under his own power, but rather being propped up by Sam's strength alone. Suddenly, the light emanating from him intensified and he growled, "Get out – now!"

Sam struggled to keep them both upright as Dean's head slammed into his shoulder and deep, guttural yells of anguish broke free. The gauze adorning his brother's chest and abdomen bloomed with crimson color, the wounds reopening and soaking it through. Amazingly, both boys remained on their feet as the vaporous image of DemonDean appeared before them.

Glowering angrily, DemonDean jeered, "I see what you are trying to do, but it won't work. It won't be over until he is mine and you are dead." This said to the elder hunter while Sam looked on with horror. It was the transparent image of his older brother, only with those eyes – those familiar, wretched, golden eyes. The younger couldn't help the shiver that snaked up his spine.

With great effort, Dean lifted his head – struggling to stand his full height, ferocity transforming his features. Adrenaline and sheer will made it possible to face his adversary head on.

Dean threatened, his lips twisting with rage, "Just try it."

Unknowingly, the demon had been flanked on either side by Jay and his father, who were still praying furiously, their cadence rising and falling with a tempo older than time itself. The demon shimmered briefly, but kept its ground. Noticing the tenuous way Dean was standing and the effort it was taking to keep that stance, the demon stepped forward until it was nose to nose with the young man, the whitish-blue glow surrounding Dean merging with the eerie red light of the demon. The hunter wavered ever so slightly, but to his credit, kept his position.

With an evil grin, it chided, "Why, Dean, are you threatening me? Because, you know, I never could resist a challenge."

"Take it however you want, but you've gotta go through me if you want to get to him," Dean tossed back, voice hoarse with underlying emotion. Sam briefly felt a hint of his sibling's always present self-destructiveness, the part of his older brother that would sacrifice anything for his family.

Alarmed, Sam leaned in and whispered in his brother's ear, never taking his eyes from the demon, "Dean, what are you doing? Stop."

As the chanting rose and quickened, the demon shimmered again faintly, then leaned in closer to Dean and sweetly asked, "That an invitation, soldier? 'Cause it looks to me like you are in no condition to invite trouble."

Dean stood silent, glaring back at it, Sam pressed against his back, one of his little brother's hands still supporting his elbow as he wobbled slightly. Unflinchingly, he waited, refusing to make the first move. The elder boy's face was seething, terrifying to behold, rage etched in every line.

Eager to consume the young man's soul, the demon smirked, "As you wish."

With one step the demon dissipated into Dean, but instead of disappearing, it merged with the hunter's form, much like it had at the cabin. One battled with the other, becoming a twisted menagerie of arms and legs as they fought to override the existence of the other, pulsating in and out of each other. Unexpectedly, the demon found it could not pass through the elder Winchester, nor could it extinguish the young man's radiant essence. The broken, wounded man was somehow keeping it firmly in check.

As the demon continued reaching through one brother in an attempt to get to the other, it howled with the rage of being thwarted – Dean, in turn, howled with the pain of being violated. Quickly, John jerked Sam away from the flexing, stretched fingers that extended through his elder son's back.

Dean stifled his cries long enough to bite out, "You'll…never…have him!"

Ominously, the light surrounding Dean surged, causing the demon to react as if burned – yelping in pain. The Penagasheas continued to chant their supplications as the evil spirit began to blink in and out – much like a fluorescent light not quite making a full connection with the circuit. Slowly, the demon-spirit began to disintegrate as it roared in anger and frustration, its cries taking on a disturbing unearthly quality – its body writhing stubbornly. With one final grunt of defeat, the demon flashed completely out of sight, out of existence – just like someone flipping a light switch – it was gone.

Simultaneously, the light of Dean's spirit also blinked out and the young man crumpled bonelessly to the floor, silent and unmoving. The other men gaped momentarily, both stunned and amazed, before rushing to help the young man. Someone lit a torch and held it aloft as another ran to throw back the door of the lodge. Reaching his brother first, Sam began shaking the elder man and calling out to him.

"Dean, hey man," Sam said as he tapped his brother's cheeks, trying to rouse him, "look at me." Getting no response, terror propelled his heart rate into overtime. Sam yelled at Jay, "Help him!"

Ignoring Sam's panic, the doctor immediately began checking for life signs. Looking nervously from one Winchester to the other, he reached for a blanket and began swabbing down Dean's chest, removing the excess blood so he could begin chest compressions. Understanding what was needed from him, Sam positioned himself to begin giving breaths.

"What's happening?" John's voice boomed, "Why didn't it work?"

Joseph Penagashea came up beside the terrified man and, placing a hand on his shoulder, said, "It did work. The evil spirit is gone. But the fight was hard. Tapped much of Dean's soul energy and reopened his wounds. Strong is this evil and deep was its hold."

Then Jay's father looked up at John, continuing, "Without your son's fierce warrior heart, it would have won, but he fought very hard. His physical body was weakened though, maybe too much so."

John paled further and watched as Jay and Sam continued CPR. Tears sprang to his eyes and his heavy heart constricted until even breathing became difficult.

Seeing his friend's turmoil, Joseph crossed both arms in front of his chest and assured, "But my son is a good doctor, the Great Spirit is merciful, and your son is a fighter. There is hope still yet, John Winchester."

Waiting in between breaths, Sam begged, with tears in his eyes, "Come on, Dean. Man, don't do this."

Then his turn came again and he breathed into his brother's lungs, hoping they'd begin to move on their own this time. They continued on, Dean's blood staining Jay's hands and smudging Sam's face from where they stubbornly worked on the injured man, neither willing to give up long past the normal efforts of trained medical personnel. When the realization of how long they had been working on Dean settled in, tears began streaming freely down John's cheeks and Sam was shouting at his brother in anger and sheer terror.

"Come on, Dean, breathe! You can't do this. Wake up!" Sam slammed his fist into the earth next to his brother's head, wanting to give in to the wetness that pooled behind his lids, but knowing his brother needed him to remain focused and methodical. "Please, Dean, I need you to stay."

Several minutes passed and elder boy remained unresponsive. Coming up behind Sam, John bent low and placed his hands on his frantic child's upper arms and choked out, "Sam, stop. He's gone."

"No…no. He's going to be all right. He has to be," Sam protested. Then he crooned, "I won't give up on you, Dean – I won't."

"Sammy, it's enough!" John shouted and tried to restrain his youngest. "Your brother is dead. Do you hear me? Jay? Man, stop this madness!"

But Jay wasn't ready to give up either. With a resolute shake of his head, he kept working – he wasn't letting Dean die.

Unable to continue watching their useless attempts to revive his elder son, yet not able to squash that last desperate expectation that Dean would some how pull through, John turned his head to the side and scrubbed at his eyes with tremor-ridden hands. His mind wanted to indulge in the hope that Dean would somehow magically come back to them – but, as each second, each minute ticked by, he knew his son was long gone. The grief weighed down on him, pressing in until he thought his sanity would crack under the pressure.

Next to him, he could hear Sam's plaintive murmurs to Dean, his head now resting forehead to forehead with that of his lifeless brother...

oooOOOooo

Wrapped in the arms of an angel unseen, Dean Winchester's soul glowed with warmth and peace for the first time in 23 years. He didn't understand where he was or what was going on, he only knew that he felt loved – unconditionally and fully loved. Then he became aware of a voice speaking in golden, melodic tones.

"Dean, open your eyes and hear me."

Dean opened his eyes and blinked. Confused and curious, he began taking in the landscape unfolding around him. Everything was so beautiful, filled with colors his eyes had never before beheld, so rich and vibrant. Nothing could have ever prepared him for this.

"You're not a believer, are you, Dean Winchester?" the mysterious voice asked.

Instinctively knowing what was being asked of him, Dean bent his head and whispered, "No. How do you believe in good when there is so much darkness everywhere?" Even as the words left his mouth, he felt inherent goodness flood in, filling out his dark places and enveloping him in joy and love, warming his spirit – welcoming him openly.

"And yet, here you are." The voice was tender and soothing as it spoke.

Shifting back and forth on his feet, Dean nervously asked, "Where exactly is here?"

"This is home, Dean," the voice answered. "But it is not your time…you must go back, now."

"Go back? Go back where?"

"To your family. They still need you. Your job is not complete."

And then, with a rush of remembrance, he thought of Sam and his father. But he was so overcome by the feelings of absolute acceptance and peace of this place that he immediately blurted, "Why bring me here – show me how it could be – only to send me back?"

"So you could believe. So that your faith would be restored."

Sadness and understanding filled Dean's heart as he looked around, still reveling in the magnificence and beauty surrounding him. Dean hung his head as he said, his voice tinged in wonderment, "But, I'm at peace here."

Dean thought he heard a tender chuckle lace the next words spoken to him as the voice said, "This will all still be waiting for you at the end. Are you still willing to fight against those who would devour your soul, who would bring death and darkness to the world, to your family?"

"Always," Dean answered simply.

"This is why you must go back. There are so few of you and so many of them. This is yourpurpose."

His own words to Sam so long ago floated across his mind, "I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things...the family business."

Without fear or hesitation, Dean said with a nod, "Okay. Okay."

And then he was falling, spiraling ever downward, but somehow controlled. That was the last thing he remembered before the blackness came and stole him away…

oooOOOooo

Jay had finally given up on the lifeless body of the young man who had fought so valiantly and was sitting quietly beside the unmoving hunter as his little brother openly sobbed, whispering, "No. No."

Sam sat at the top of his brother's head, bent at the waist – his brow pressed against Dean's. One hand was resting on Dean's shoulder while the other lie fisted near his ear. Sam was desperately trying to make some sort of connection with his brother – kept hoping and praying for some kind of tingle or spark of something – but Dean remained silent and void.

Still, the younger searched, reached and begged. He didn't really believe there was anything left to find. He'd felt the continuous presence of his brother wink out at the very same moment the elder man had fallen to the floor. That's probably why he nearly missed it altogether. Sam. Probably his imagination giving him what he wanted – needed – to believe. Sam. A little stronger this time…but could it really be? His face crinkled with disbelief as he sat up and stared into Dean's pallid, motionless features. Nothing. Not a twitch, not a sound – but still, Sam hoped. There, just outside the borders of certain knowledge lurked the idea of Dean. A small ember of life, but an ember nonetheless.

"Dean?" He waited and listened, but not with his physical ears. He needed it to be real so badly.But still, he waited

It'll be okay, little brother.

No longer doubting, he turned to Jay and demanded, "He's back. Help me!"

As Sam knelt next to his brother's body and resumed compressions, the other men sent sad, worried looks at the young man, but none made a move to help him. Instead, they looked at each other, wondering what they should do, how they could best approach the grief-stricken brother without sending him further into the deep end. Jay, who was still sitting next to the younger Winchester, reached out a sympathetic hand toward him. But, Sam was paying no attention, still working furiously on his brother's unresponsive body.

Growing frantic, Sam doubled up his fist and smacked his brother's chest hard, demanding, "Fight, Dean. You promised me you'd fight, now fight, damn it!"

The ember of Dean inside Sam's mind caught into a full-fledged spark, growing stronger and breathing with a life of its own. Looking up deliriously happy, Sam saw the shared looks of pity between the others. His happiness turned to spontaneous anger and exasperation at their disbelief.

John made a move toward his youngest boy, intending to gently extract him from his brother's slack body. Immediately, Sam threw up a hand to stop his father, pinning him with a lethal glare.

"No, you don't understand. I can feel him, he's back. Here-" Sam grabbed Jay's hand and pressed his fingers into Dean's neck, pleading with his stormy eyes.

At first Jay began to pull away without waiting to confirm what he knew wouldn't be there, but something he saw in Sam's face caused him to pause and really feel. Looking up in shock, his face told the story to all pairs of eyes now focused on him. Their expressions turned from hopelessness to bewilderment and finally to expectant optimism as they crowded around.

Throwing blankets across Dean's wounded body, Jay commanded, "Help me get him back to the clinic. Quickly!"

Joyful laughter bubbled up from somewhere inside Sam as he lifted his tear-streaked face to the heavens above and murmured, "Thank you, thank you."

TBC

a/n: Wow, I bet you all thought I'd forgotten you, huh? Nope, never. I could never forget about all the kindness you have shown me and my humble story by faithfully reading and reviewing. What can I say…I've been swamped and exhausted (sitting down has become a hazardous thing as I seem to zonk out the minute I'm still, lol). Plus, as we near the end of this journey, I find it ever more important to be careful not to screw anything totally up, lol. I hope you continue to enjoy each and every chapter right to the end…which will be sooner than I can believe.

Considering I don't have many more opportunities to do this, I want to thank you all again for staying the course and leaving me kind feedback. I don't think this would've come this far without all of you supporting each chapter along. Again, I apologize for not getting out proper individual reviews to each of you, but I'll try to do this time. ;)

Special big thanks to Mady Bay and Tidia for the constructive advice and needed corrections. I appreciate all of your efforts to make this a better story and owe you big time.