Chapter Thirty-Four

When Dean came awake, night had fallen. Liz was asleep beside him, her deep, even breathing the only sound in the room. He had no sense of how much time had passed or how he had gotten under the covers. Everything still seemed as surreal as the dream he had just come out of. He sat up, causing Liz to stir.

It took her a minute to gather her senses. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs and blinked blearily. "Hey," she greeted quietly.

"Hey," he replied just as quietly.

She stretched her arms above her head, taking care to make sure that the comforter continued to cover her. "Are you okay?" she asked and sat up.

A smile ghosted on Dean's lips. "Shouldn't I be the one asking that?"

"I'm fine," Liz reassured him.

"Good."

Liz waited for moment. "What about you? You okay?"

Dean scoffed. "I've done this before, Liz."

Liz shook her head. "Not like this, you haven't," she said.

"I'm great," Dean insisted.

Liz shrugged. "It's just that I've been in your deranged head before. There might be things in mine that are...I don't know...bad."

Dean cupped her face with his hands. "Liz, I'm fine."

Liz leaned into Dean's touch and watched him until she noticed the scratches on his shoulders. Her eyes widened, and she leaned forward and lightly touched the bloody crescent shapes. "Did I do that? I'm sorry."

Dean glanced at the nail marks then shrugged. He turned her arms where she could see the finger-shaped bruises that he had made. "Ditto."

They froze, realizing that they were each holding a part of the other, and the awkwardness returned in full force.

"This is weird," Liz said.

Dean smiled crookedly. "Yeah, it is." He grabbed behind her head and pulled her closer to him. "I need to see something," he explained and kissed her.

It still felt just as good to kiss her. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to stand at attention when their lips touched. Liz made a sound at the back of her throat and opened her mouth to him. They continued kissing languidly until Dean felt boneless.

When he broke off the kiss, his body was practically humming with desire. Liz immediately pulled him into another kiss, wet and sloppy, and he pulled her onto his lap. She leaned back and heaved a big breath before leaning back forward. She moved like she was going to kiss him again but ended up resting her forehead against his.

"The surrogacy spell," she reminded herself. "We need to do the surrogacy spell."

She pulled back again and looked Dean in the eyes. "What time is it?" she asked.

"A little after eight," a female voice chimed in. Liz and Dean whipped their heads toward the voice. A pretty brunette in her late-twenties was sitting in Dean's computer chair, swiveling back and forth in a bored manner. She smiled at Liz and Dean's surprise then vaulted to her feet.

Liz scurried off of Dean's lap, and he grabbed the gun that he always kept beside his bed and pointed it at the newcomer.

The woman was unconcerned by this. She smiled cruelly at the pair, eyes glittering with sadistic joy. "Aren't the two of you just precious?" she asked rhetorically.

"Who are you?" Liz asked, clutching the comforter to her.

The woman ignored the question and focused on Dean. "Dean, Dean, Dean," she taunted, "I never thought it would take you so long to get into her panties. We were starting to take bets over whether it would happen at all. What's the matter? Are you losing your touch?"

The woman looked away dismissively, turning her attention to Liz. "Ah, yes, the great and powerful Liz. Here she is still playing the blushing virgin even though Dean has done a thorough job of sullying her." She laughed as Liz pulled the comforter a little tighter against herself. "Tell me, Liz, doesn't it get old always pretending to be more innocent than you really are?" She winked conspiratorially. "Some friendly advice, sweetheart: that won't hold Dean's attention for long."

Liz shifted the comforter again and glanced at Dean, with an insecure on her face. The woman watched in amusement. Liz looked back at the woman. "Who are you?" she demanded.

Dean touched her shoulder. "Liz, let me by you so I can get dressed."

Liz nodded and took the gun from Dean, aiming it at the girl. She leaned forward as Dean crawled out of bed naked and searched for his boxers.

The woman cocked her head appreciatively at Dean then waggled her eyebrows at Liz. "I guess congratulations are in order, Liz. Way to go. If you don't mind, I think I'll track your husband down and have a go the next time I change my appearance." The woman laughed merrily. "You wouldn't mind, would you?"

Liz ignored the question. "Who are you?" she repeated through clenched teeth. She stood up and managed to keep the gun pointed at the woman while she made a makeshift dress out of the comforter.

The woman pouted, eyes turning black. "Is she always this demanding?" she asked Dean. "Wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know." She turned back to Liz. "I'm Dean's soul collector," she told her, holding up a hand to silence any words about to tumble out of Dean or Liz's mouth. "I know, I know: I'm a bitch. I should have given you a little more time to bask in the afterglow."

Dean was thunderstruck. "You can't be here," he objected. "I have a month left."

The demon smiled viciously. "No, Dean, you had 28 days, 19 hours, 18 minutes, and 33-32-31-30 seconds left. Not anymore."

Dean shook his head in disbelief. "You can't just change our deal," he protested. "I have things I need to do. You can't have me yet."

The cruel smile widened. "That's where you're wrong, Dean. The deal has changed."

"That's unfair!" Dean exclaimed. He motioned for Liz to hand him the gun. She hesitated for a moment then handed it over.

The demon watched the exchange in amusement. "I am a demon, Dean. It's kind of my prerogative to be unfair and underhanded. As I said, the deal has changed. Deal with it."

Dean's face hardened. "Then un-change it."

"I can't. If it's any consolation, I wish our arrangement had remained the same."

"Why can't you change it?" Dean asked.

The demon rolled its eyes. "It's too late for that, Dean Winchester. Your debt has already been paid in full."

"Paid?" Dean repeated confusedly.

"Yes, in full," the demon said, picking up a sack from the floor. She reached in and pulled out a severed head.

Liz gasped when she realized that the head belonged to her mother. "Mom?" she said, sounding like a lost little girl. Rose's eyes stared lifelessly out at the world. Liz collapsed onto the bed, eyes fixed on her mother's head.

The demon threw back its head and laughed. "Mr. Barrister sends his regards, Dean, and asked that I let you know that he welcomes you to the family." The demon pitched Rose's head on the bed. It landed beside Liz who flinched away.

"You know, Dean," the demon explained. "If you hadn't screwed her, then our deal would have stayed the same, and you would be dead in a few days. I say enjoy your wedding gift."

Dean glanced at Liz. "Don't do anything stupid, Liz," he told her.

Tears came to Liz's eyes, and she shook her head. "I'm not going to do anything stupid," she insisted.

"Oh, that is so cute," the demon said. "You are comforting your wife, Dean. It's amazing how quickly you've accustomed yourself to that role."

"Leave," Dean commanded the demon harshly, eyes never leaving Liz. "You've had your fun, now leave."

The demon laughed. "Congratulations and best wishes to the happy couple," it said and disappeared.

Dean kneeled in front of Liz and forced her to look at him. "You need to get dressed, Liz," he told her.

Liz looked shell-shocked. "Bobby'll know what to do," she said without moving.

Dean watched her for a moment then pulled her into an awkward hug. "Hey, come on. Don't fall apart on me now, Liz. That's what your father wants."

Tears ran silently down Liz's face as she held onto Dean. "Give me a second," she requested. She took a deep breath and wiped furiously at her eyes. She broke the embrace and walked to Dean's dresser, pulling out one of his many black shirts. "Do you mind if I wear this?" she asked.

Dean shrugged. "Knock yourself out."

Liz looked grateful as she set the shirt on the dresser. She looked at Dean, who was watching her, then shifted awkwardly. "Um, could you turn around so I can get dressed?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "We just had sex, Liz."

"I'm aware. Could you please turn around?"

Dean laughed and turned away to placate her. "You know, Liz, not that I don't think it's hot, but if you wear my clothes, Bobby is going to know what happened tonight."

"He already does."

Dean spun around, causing Liz to squeal and jerk the shirt over her head. "You told Bobby that you were going to sleep with me?" he asked in disbelief. "I mean, not that I really care, but…"

"I didn't exactly tell him, but I'm sure he's smart enough to figure it out," Liz explained. "I kept the details as vague as possible." She leaned against the dresser tiredly. "We have to have sex again," she said to herself. "I have to have sex with Sam. I don't feel very sexy right now."

"It'll be fine," Dean assured her. "You can do this."

Liz nodded. "I suppose you're right. Ten minutes of vigorous rubbing and anyone will get aroused."

Dean barked out laughter. "And I thought I was supposed to be the unromantic one in this equation."

Liz half smiled. "I guess we're more like birds of a feather," she said, glancing down at herself. She stopped herself from looking at the bed. "There's still the matter of my mother." She choked up. "I don't have time to give my mother a funeral," she realized mournfully.

Dean squeezed her shoulders. "We'll make time after this is all over. I promise."

Liz nodded gratefully. "I stole a pair of your boxer shorts, too," she confessed to change the subject.

Dean smiled halfheartedly. "I noticed. They look better on you anyway."

Liz smiled affectionately at Dean, ducking her head when he looked up at her.

He smiled back at her. "I'm gonna go get Bobby. You gonna be okay in here?" he said.

She nodded and watched him leave.

When Dean came back with Bobby trailing behind him, Liz had pulled her hair back into a ponytail and was sitting in the computer chair that the demon had recently occupied. She was pointedly ignoring her mother's head sitting on the bed less than three feet from her.

Ellen barged into the room before Bobby and Dean could shut the door. "What's going on? What's with the cloak and dagger?" she wanted to know. She looked around the room, eyes widening as she took in the decapitated head on the bed.

Liz was staring into space with a dazed look on her face. "My dad arranged it so that my mom died in Dean's place. It was his wedding present to Dean," she answered emotionlessly.

Ellen was speechless. She took in Liz and what she was wearing and raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

Liz turned to Dean. "Why don't I go get the stuff for the ritual while you and Bobby take care of..." she trailed off and motioned toward Dean's bed.

Dean nodded, a look of sympathy in his eyes.

"What ritual?" Ellen interrupted.

"I'll let you explain," Liz told Dean then left the room.

Dean waited until she had disappeared down the hall before wrapping Rose's head in his sheets. "I know you have questions, Ellen, but I'm hoping they can wait. I don't know what to do right now. My mother-in-law's head was just delivered to me via demon mail, and I'm not sure what the standard procedure is. Do we have a funeral? Do we look for the rest of the body?" He gathered the sheets up and handed them, head and all, to Bobby.

Bobby took the bundle reluctantly. "What does Liz want to do?" Bobby asked. He unwrapped the head and inspected it. "She died recently," he observed.

"She died tonight," Dean agreed, sighing and sitting tiredly on the bed.

"What makes tonight so special?" Ellen asked.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Ellen, why don't we save the questions for another time? I think the kids have had enough drama."

Ellen looked at Liz's robe lying on the floor and at Dean shifting uncomfortably and a light went off. "Oh. Right. I didn't think..."

"It's not really any of your business, Ellen," Dean cut her off, his voice sharp. "Be nice to Liz. She's been through some stuff tonight."

"I'm always nice to Liz," Ellen rebutted.

Dean's anger deflated. "I hope that Liz can forgive herself. It's not her fault, but we all know that she's going to blame herself."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. If she's as stubborn as I think she is, we won't be able to convince her otherwise, either."

"What time is it?" Liz interrupted from the doorway. All conversation ceased.

Dean looked at his cell phone. "8:21."

Liz thought for a moment. "Okay. Bobby, do whatever you think is best with my mom. I...Dean and I don't have time to worry about it."

"That's another thing," Ellen said. "What ritual are you preparing for? What is going on here?"

Liz stared at her unflinchingly. "We're trying to save Sam."

Ellen looked dubious. "By sleeping with Dean?"

Liz's eyes widened and a look of betrayal crossed her face. "You told her?" she hissed at Dean.

"Actually, I figured it out," Ellen said softly. "You just confirmed what I suspected."

Liz glared at Ellen. "Fine. Yes, I am trying to save Sam by sleeping with Dean." She looked at Dean. "When you're ready, I'll be downstairs." She walked out of the room without waiting for him to follow.

"I guess that's my cue," he said, staring unhappily at Ellen. He followed Liz out of the room.

Ellen gave Bobby a hard look. "What is going on?" she demanded. "She's sleeping with Dean to save Sam? That's a crock."

Bobby looked down at the package he was carrying. "Liz is trying to save Sam. I don't think she bargained on this."

"How is screwing Dean helping to save Sam?"

Bobby shrugged. "Liz was a little fuzzy on the details. She seemed embarrassed about the whole thing, so I didn't pry. She did say that she had spent all her time in Seattle researching this possibility and that it was all she had come up with."

Ellen remained silent for a moment, thinking about what Bobby had said. "What are we going to do with the head?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I don't know," Bobby admitted.

"Do you think Liz needs someone to talk to?"

"I think she'd scoff at the idea."

Ellen nodded thoughtfully. "You're probably right."

"Dean'll take care of her. Don't worry."

Ellen raised an eyebrow to show her disbelief. "You think Dean will take care of her and be a shoulder to cry on?"

"Don't count him out," Bobby said. "It may not be his forte, but he cares about her, so he'll do what he can."

"You think he cares about her?"

Bobby shrugged. "Don't you?"

XXX

"So, what's the knife for?" Dean asked when he caught up with Liz.

She glanced down at the small hunting knife she had brought with her then at Dean. "It's to cut you with," she said matter-of-factly.

"Sounds like fun," Dean replied sardonically.

He started to walk around Liz, but she grabbed the front of his shirt. "Let me explain the ritual before we go in there," she said. Her hand shook slightly as she stared at the door that led to the basement. "You are going to have to do most of the talking." She opened the book she was carrying to a pre-marked paged and pointed out a passage to him. "You'll begin reading here. When you get to the end of the first passage, cut your palm and then mine. Then we'll clasp hands to mix our blood and say the next line. Then you'll read the next passage and cut Sam's palm without wiping our blood from the blade. Then comes the tricky part: Sam has to read the next passage as acknowledgment that he accepts your proposition of surrogacy. I'm not sure yet how we're going to manage that, but we'll figure something out. When he finishes, you will clasp your hands together, swapping blood. Then I'll read a passage and exchange blood with Sam while we repeat the line that you and I said together, and that's that."

"Right. There's nothing at all complicated about that," Dean teased.

Liz was too shaken up to laugh. "You do know how to read Latin, right?" she asked.

"I don't know what it says, but I know how to read it."

Liz nodded. "Good. Let's do this." She waited for Dean to lead the way.

Sam was awake when they entered the basement. He seemed completely at ease and was not trying to break out of his restraints. Even without saying a thing, it was obvious that Sam was no longer Sam. The smirk on his face widened when he saw Liz. Still he did not say anything.

Dean paused for only a moment before taking the book from Liz and reading the passage she had marked. Liz winced when Dean sliced her hand open, but it was the only sound she made. She threaded her fingers through Dean's and said the required line from memory.

Dean read the next part and cut Sam's palm. Liz took the gag off the demon and waited until she had its attention. "I need you to cooperate with me," she told it.

The demon smiled maliciously. "What will you give me if I do?"

Liz rolled her eyes. "I'll have sex with you," she answered calmly. "That is what you want, right?"

The demon laughed. "You were already planning on giving it up to me, Elizabeth. Try again."

"Yeah, but if you don't do this, you won't get to have sex with me."

"True," the demon conceded. "Sam will still be dead, though. If you want my help, I'm going to need more motivation."

Liz frowned. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" the demon repeated slowly. It smiled viciously. "I want you untie me before we do the deed."

Liz's eyes widened. "No way," she said, shaking her head vigorously.

"Those are my terms," the demon said.

"No."

"Liz," Dean interrupted. "What are you doing? Agree to what he wants."

Liz turned to Dean. "You can't ask me to do that, Dean."

Dean got a glimpse of what Liz was thinking. It was all bondage and domination scenarios. "I am asking you," he said, looking away guiltily.

Liz stared at Dean for a long moment. "Fine," she spat out, turning back to the demon. Her voice wavered slightly as she spoke. "But you have to say and do everything I tell you to without question until then. And you have to do it exactly like I tell you to. There's no deal if you don't agree."

The demon smiled. "You're on. What do you need me to say, Elizabeth?"

Liz bit her lip nervously. "Nothing. I need to talk to Sam, so let me."

"That wasn't part of the deal."

"Yes, it was. I need Sam to agree to be Dean's surrogate, not you. Now, let me speak to Sam," she commanded.

The demon sat blinking at Liz for a moment, then closed its eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Suddenly, Sam was looking at them.

"Where am I?" he asked. He looked around quizzically, focusing on Dean. "Why am I tied up?"

"Sam?" Dean asked.

Liz looked over her shoulder at Dean. "Don't get used to it, Dean. The demon is allowing us to speak to Sam. He still has control. We need to do the ritual."

Dean shook his head, eyes never leaving Sam. "Sam, is that you?"

A look of dread passed over Sam's face. "There's something else in here, too," he said.

"Fight it."

Liz forced Sam to look at her. "Sam, I need you to do something for me."

Sam's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Okay," he answered.

Liz glanced back at Dean, turning away at his hard look. "I need you to read something for me." She held the book in front of his face and pointed out the passage for him to read.

Sam looked at the place she had indicated and then at Dean. "What's going on?" he asked.

"We're trying to help you," Liz answered.

Dean stared back at Sam with a torn expression on his face.

"Dean?" Sam asked. "What's going on?"

Dean glanced at Liz and back at Sam. "She's right. We're trying to help you. We need you to read this so that we can get the demon out of you."

Sam stared at Dean until he was convinced that he was not lying. Then he read the passage.

Dean kneeled and pressed his palm against Sam's. Sam watched this with a lost look on his face. He switched to staring at Liz when she began to speak. When she was finished and had threaded her fingers through his, he looked at again at Dean.

Liz got his attention again. "I need you to say this line with me," she told him, holding the book back in front of him for him to read.

They said the line together and then both grimaced in pain when a line of dark red started creeping up their arms, starting from where their hands were clasped together.

Liz clutched Sam's hand tightly, as the red line continued up her arm and under the shirt she was wearing.

"What happened?" Dean asked when Liz wrenched her hand away from Sam. Instead of answering, she grabbed her shoulder where Dean's mark was still healing and bit her lip against the pain. After a minute, Liz relaxed slightly then turned to Dean with a frantic look in her eyes. "Say goodbye, Dean. Say goodbye right now."

Dean looked at her confusedly for a moment, then looked at Sam as awareness dawned on him. "Sam, we are going to..." he trailed off as Sam's eyes turned black.

The demon smirked at Dean. "Sorry, Sam's not home right now. Would you like to leave a message?"

Liz looked sadly at Dean. "I am so sorry," she said. "We'll get him back, though. I promise."

"You can't promise that," he said, voice rough with emotion.

The demon laughed. "I believe we had a deal, Elizabeth," he said. "Send the boy to bed."

"I'll be back to hold up my end of the bargain," Liz told him. "There's something I have to do first."

The smile fell off the demon's face. "I don't recall saying that I would wait patiently down here while you went off lolly-gagging. You made a deal, Liz."

Liz gritted her teeth. "It's a deal I have every intention of upholding," she ground out. "There's something I need to do first, though." She stepped behind the Devil's Snare. "I don't see that there is really anything you can do about it."

"I'll make you pay for that insolence."

"I'll bet you will," Liz mocked fearlessly and headed toward the stairs.

"While you're up there," the demon called after her, "Take a shower. You smell like sex...and Dean."

Liz ignored the taunt and continued up the stairs. Dean followed her unceremoniously. When he shut the door on the basement, he leaned against it and fought the tears that were coming to his eyes.

"That may be the last time that I get to talk to Sam," he said in a tortured voice.

Answering tears came to Liz's eyes, and she grabbed Dean's arm. "That is not going to be the last time you get to talk to Sam," she told him. "I promise."

"Don't," Dean commanded harshly. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Sam's going to be okay. I have to believe that because if he isn't and I die for no reason, then...then..." She tried to blink away her tears. "He just has to be okay, okay?"

"What do you mean, if you die for no reason? You're not going to die."

"I might," she said resignedly. She handed him a small vial. "Here."

"What's this?" he asked.

"It's the potion for the strengthening bond. We each drink one, and that's that."

"There's no mumbo jumbo?"

Liz smiled. "No mumbo jumbo."

"I thought you said we had to have sex with this ritual."

Liz floundered. "'Have to' might be a bit misleading. Maybe 'will be almost impossible to fight the urge to' would have been more accurate."

Dean shrugged and emptied his bottle. "How long does it take to take effect?"

Liz gasped and covered her mouth. "You shouldn't have done that."

"Oh, yeah? Why not?"

"It's really fast acting, and Bobby and Ellen are probably still in your room. I'm not going back in there even if they're not."

"Then we'll use yours."

"I'm sharing a room with Jo."

"So? As long as she's not currently occupying it, I don't see the problem."

Liz shook her head disapprovingly. "You have to see why that's bad, Dean. You just have to. It's so wrong."

"Then we'll use Sam's," Dean said and pulled Liz flush against his body. "He's not using it." He kissed her. "Have I mentioned how hot it is that you're wearing my clothes?"

Liz did her best to keep Dean from groping her. She jumped when he grabbed her butt and it felt like an electric shock went through her. He nuzzled her neck. "Where else are we gonna go, Liz?" he pointed out. "Bobby's room?"

"I guess Sam's room is really our only option, huh?" she replied.

"It is," Dean agreed. His hands started shaking as the potion took effect. "You're killing me, Liz. If you want to get a motel room, I'm game at this point. We might not make it there, but..."

"Sam's room is fine," Liz said. She tipped the contents of the other vial into her mouth. "Lead the way."

XXX

Dean woke up alone. He used the quiet time to inspect the mark that had appeared on his wrist. It was the same as the mark on his shoulder on a smaller scale. The complicated design intrigued him.

He dropped his arm to his side when Liz came into the room a few minutes later, hair wet from her shower. She came up short when she realized he was awake.

"Hey," she said.

He patted the space beside him. "Come here."

Liz paused for only a second then sat where he had indicated.

Dean rubbed her shoulders then flipped her arm so he could see her wrist. He started tracing the mark there. "This is definitely different. I can touch you without every molecule in my body screaming at me to take you regardless of where we are. That's a plus."

Liz laughed. "Tell me about it."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm…tired," she answered, turning to face him. "Maybe a little sore. What about you? Are you okay?"

"I'm always fine," he replied. A shadow passed over his face. "I'm still processing the fact that I am about to tell you to go screw my demon-possessed brother, but other than that, I'm just peachy."

She shifted awkwardly. "This is still weird."

"It is," he agreed with a smile.

"I guess I better get ready to go," Liz said.

"Are you gonna wear that?" Dean asked, jerking his chin toward her outfit. She had put the shirt and boxer shorts she had taken from Dean back on.

Liz glanced down at herself. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all."

She smiled mischievously. "Good. It's a small way of reminding the demon that I'm yours, not Sam's. I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

Dean sighed. "So, how does this work? Do I just tell you to leave? Do I command you to leave? Do I have to say something specific?"

Liz stretched her exhausted muscles. "The more demanding that you are, the harder it is for me to resist. If you tell me to do something, and I don't, that's one thing. If you command me to do something, then it would probably physically hurt for me to disobey. If you told me you would kill me, and I refused you, then my understanding is that it would kill me not to obey."

"Your cult has such fun spells," Dean said sarcastically.

"Don't I know it," she replied just as sarcastically.

Dean looked at her sadly. "Liz, I command you to find my brother, Sam, and have sex with him. I will kill you if you disobey this order. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she replied, barely above a whisper. She turned to go.

"Stop," Dean commanded.

She stopped but did not turn around. "Yes?"

Dean got up and hugged her from behind, tucking his chin over her shoulder. "You had better not die, Liz. I'm just starting to like you."

"I'll try my best," she promised, turning to give him a shaky smile.

He could feel the fear and dread she felt despite her brave face. "Good luck," he told her.

"Thanks."

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. "Everything is going to be okay, Liz."

She smiled a watery smile. "I think you may be right," she replied. She untangled their hands and walked to the door.

"One more thing, Liz," he said.

"What's that?"

"What did you see earlier when we slept together?" he wondered.

Liz paused in the doorway. "The future," she said and walked out, shutting the door softly.

Dean watched her go, feeling helpless. He walked to the bed and sunk onto it. He flopped onto his stomach and buried his head in the pillows. They smelled like Liz. He turned over and realized the room smelled like sex, so he got up and opened a window, hoping that the scent wouldn't linger.

He got back in bed and rolled onto his side, trying to force himself to relax. Eventually, it worked, and he fell into a fitful sleep.