Happy Update Day! Hope you're all doing good.
Thank you MaggieMay17 for beta'ing, Ncsupnatfan and VegasGranny for pre-reading, and you all for reading.
Chapter Three
"I want him back, and I want you to say whatever it takes for him to say yes," Mary said. "The Sam I had was barely two years old. He loved his blankie and hated green beans. His response to everything I asked him to do was 'why.' He was still practically a baby. I need to know him as a man."
Pain rose in Sam's chest like fire, and his hands reached for out his mother only to move through her without meeting resistance.
He saw Chuck's eyes gleam with satisfaction as he watched Sam, the only person there that could see the whole scene and enjoy it.
Sam wasn't a child when Mary died; he was a baby. He'd not reached questions; he'd not even had words to ask them with. Dean was the one that went through Sam's questioning phase—though Dean would say a phase was only called a phase when it had an actual end, and Sam still hadn't stopped asking.
The conversation went on around him, and he shook his head as Chuck explained the problem of him coming to Sam alone.
Sam knew Chuck was a master storyteller, he'd lived one of his stories after all, but as he listened to him weaving the story of what had happened to Sam and how Sam blamed him for it all, he marveled.
If Sam chose to go back, he would be going to a world in which he could never tell them the truth of even a little of it, as they wouldn't believe him. They'd think he was as confused as Chuck had arranged for him to look.
One thing that struck Sam was that Chuck had given no explanation to prepare them if he suddenly attacked Nick and accused him of being Lucifer. Did he not think Sam would do it, or was he hoping for that to be the 'plot twist' that added something special to the story when it caught them off guard?
Sam didn't even know if he would attack if he was there. Nick cared about him; he could see it. The way they talked about him, the way Nick looked at his body, all the emotion he was feeling was familiar to Sam as he'd felt them in his life. That was how it looked to lose a brother.
Nick truly thought Sam was his brother. He loved him.
It was a moot point, though. Sam would never have a chance to tell them anything or do anything to Nick at all as he wasn't going back. Chuck had overplayed his hand. He'd told them he would only bring Sam back if it was the right thing, if it was what Sam wanted, and he didn't want it.
If Chuck left him as a ghost, he'd deal with it. If he decided to stuff him in The Empty, Sam wouldn't even try to fight; he would take it with open arms. Eternal sleep seemed a fair price to pay to not be stuck with Nick for the rest of his life.
He didn't want to play the part of the one who had been Lucifer's and Crowley's bitch in Hell. He didn't want to be weak; he'd lived that life, and he wasn't doing it again. He had a chance to end it here, and he was going to take it.
He marched from the room, feeling Chuck's eyes following him, and then went back to the library where Jack was wondering aloud what was happening with Sam and the others while Rowena refilled their glasses.
Sam walked to a different table and dropped into a chair. His hands spread across the smooth wood, focusing on making contact, and he wondered if this was the last time he was going to experience touch like this. Did The Empty come with dreams, or was it just sleep? He'd never thought to ask Castiel.
He squeezed his eyes closed and spread his hands, fingertips scraping across a rough edge. His eyes opened and fell on the tabletop. His finger was digging into the D of Dean's initials carved into the wood. Beside it were two more initials, Nick's, and above them were Mary's.
It was stupid that such a small piece of what he'd lost, his initials carved into a table, upset him so much, but it felt like a blow to the gut. His hands had carved his initials with Dean's penknife. He'd been there when they explained the meaning to Mary and encouraged her to add her own. That had been his life, his memory of a moment shared with his family, not Nick's.
Of everything that had happened, it was an N being switched for an S that made him want to scream most of all in that moment.
Chuck had taken all this away from him, and now he wanted Sam to go back into that world as an outsider.
Never!
Sam wanted his family back, he needed them back, but he wouldn't ever truly get them back. They'd see the man who had said yes to Lucifer and then been to Hell. They would see him as weak and needing protection. Nick would see him that way, and he would care.
Sam felt like he was choking. Chuck had put Sam through a lot in the process of telling his story, but he'd never taken him apart so wholly before. Not even Lucifer had managed to do this to him when he was in the Cage, as then Sam had still known who and what he was: a Winchester.
Chuck was offering that name back, but not that life, and it had always been so much more than a name.
The lamp on the table shone brighter and then dipped. Sam looked around and saw Rowena and Jack were gone. The area around the table he was sitting at was now occluded by mist. It was time for a new scene, obviously.
Sam looked down at the tabletop and glowered. Chuck was coming to make his offer, and Sam was ready to give his answer.
"Sammy?"
The voice was barely more than a whisper, and it was filled with the strength of emotion that made Sam's own chest hurt in sympathy.
He looked up and saw Dean walking towards him, his face twisted with a combination of joy and pain.
Sam rose to meet him automatically, his own face betraying the happiness he felt to see his brother look at him with recognition again, to be known even a little.
When Dean's arms came up to wrap around him, he tried to return the embrace, wanting nothing more than to hold his brother. Their arms drifted through each other, though, and settled at their sides again.
"I'm sorry," Chuck said, his voice suitably repentant. "Neither of you are technically here right now, so there's no contact."
Chuck's presence broke the moment of need, and Sam stiffened. He'd not known it was Dean he was going to have to refuse. It was going to be harder than he'd thought, but he was not changing his mind on this. He wasn't going back.
Sam glared at Chuck. "This is low, even for you."
"Easy, Sammy," Dean said, eyes sad. "I know you're confused, and you've been through a lot, but Chuck explained it all. He's on our side. He's going to help you."
"He's helping himself," Sam spat.
"No, man, he's going to save you." Dean's hand rose as if to touch Sam, and then he lowered it slowly with a sad frown. "I can explain everything after you're back. We can all explain together." He looked back at Chuck. "Can't you just do it already? He needs to hear it from all of us."
Chuck sighed heavily and came a step closer. "Sam, I am here to make you an offer. You can come back, I can save you, if it's what you want."
"Of course, it's what you want, right, Sammy?" Dean interjected. "We all remember now; we know what happened. We can start fixing things together. They're all waiting for you. Give Chuck the nod or whatever, and we can make it right."
Sam gave Dean an apologetic smile and said, "No, Dean."
Amusement glowed in Chuck's eyes, which Dean missed as he was wholly focused on Sam.
"What do you mean, no?" Dean asked.
"I don't want to come back," Sam said. "I'm happy where I am, thanks."
Dean took an automatic step back from him, and his eyes widened. "You can't be."
Sam averted his gaze from Dean with effort and crossed his arms tight over his chest. "No, Chuck. I don't want to come back. I don't want your help."
"I was afraid of this," Chuck said miserably.
"I bet you were," Sam snarled.
"I can't do it if he doesn't want it, Dean," Chuck said, his face formed into pained regret. "So much has been taken from him already, it would be cruel to take more."
Sam could see how much Chuck was enjoying himself, and it made his rage peak. He was playing the good guy for Dean, doing it expertly, and all Dean was going to take away from this was that Sam was too angry to accept the help that meant he could be with him again.
"It was taken by you!" he bellowed.
"I didn't take anything from you, Sam," Chuck said.
"You took everything!"
"Sam!" Dean said firmly, holding a hand an inch above Sam's chest. "Just stop a moment. Breathe."
Sam obeyed automatically, drawing the air in deeply and exhaling slowly.
Dean watched him carefully, nodding as Sam visibly relaxed, and then he fixed his imploring gaze on him and said, "Even if Chuck was the one that did this to you, I'd still want you to let him help you."
"You don't know what he did," Sam growled.
"Maybe not," Dean said. "But I know what I did. I killed you, Sammy. I was scared, and I panicked because of what was done to us all. Lucifer, Chuck, whoever it was that did the spell that wiped you…"
"It was a man called Cuthbert Sinclair," Chuck supplied.
Dean frowned. "Magnus? No, he's dead. I killed him myself."
"Lucifer brought him back," Chuck explained.
Dean's fingers tightened into fists, and then he relaxed them with visible effort. "Okay, killing him is next on the to-do list. But even if it wasn't him, I'd be asking you to say 'yes' anyway. We didn't know you, Sammy. I saw Nick unconscious and bleeding, you walking towards him, and I just…reacted."
"I was going to heal him," Sam explained tonelessly. "I didn't mean to hurt him. He caught me off guard, and it was instinctual to knock him back."
"I get that now. I know you'd never hurt any of us intentionally. We all know that. But we hurt you. Me and Nick both stabbed you and I…" He drew a shaky breath. "It can't end there, Sammy. I can't be the one that murdered my little brother because of a spell some dick put on me. You can't let it end there. I won't let you."
Sam's hands shook. This was even harder than he expected. The raw need in Dean, the pain, was almost impossible to deny.
"Careful, Dean," Chuck said warily. "He's not the man you knew before, remember."
Dean shot him a sharp look. "I'm not scared of my own brother. I know Sammy, and he knows me." He turned his attention back to Sam. "I know you won't let it end like this. Me, Mom, and Nick need you. You've missed so much that you should have been a part of, but it's over now. Michael is gone. There's no big fight for us. We can concentrate on making things right for us all. You need that as much as we do, I know."
Sam shook his head briskly, nostrils flaring, "No."
"Think of Nick," Chuck said cunningly. "Do you think he'll ever be able to forgive himself for what he and Rowena tried to do to you if he doesn't have a chance to make it right with you after?"
"What did they do?" Dean asked.
"It doesn't matter," Sam said. "None of it does."
Nick didn't matter. He wasn't Sam's brother; he wasn't his family. He was Dean's family now, Mary's, Castiel's, and Jack's. Sam hated that, but he accepted it. Nick had Sam's place; he got the good life. Sam was not going to put himself in the position of having to pretend to be his brother, too.
Perhaps Chuck's enjoyment was flagging, maybe he could see Sam wasn't going to give in and agree to go back. Whatever it was, his eyes hardened, and he raised a hand slowly and pointed it at Sam, unseen by Dean, who was facing Sam, his eyes imploring with him and his tremoring hand held above Sam's heart.
"Think about it, Sam," Chuck said seriously. "You will hurt them all so much if you don't come back."
Sam opened his mouth to answer, to tell him they could handle it, but instead, the words that left him in a sigh weren't his own. "I know."
"You know you have to come back for them, don't you?" Chuck asked.
Fury raged through Sam as his head bobbed in a nod that he wasn't controlling. Chuck had gone one step further in his role as storyteller. He was now a literal puppet master.
"You'll come back?" Dean asked hopefully.
"Yes. I will."
Sam's eyes settled on Chuck, and though he was trying to wrench himself free of Chuck's control, he could tell that his struggles were unseen. He felt his expression form into a smile that felt like an assault.
His lips formed words that he fought to bite off, but they came smoothly, easily, under Chuck's command. "If it's permission you need, I give it. I want to go back to my family. I want to see my mom. I want to be with Dean. I want to make it right with Nick. I need to be with the people I love."
Dean exhaled in a rush. "Thank you, Sammy."
Within himself, Sam screamed in fury, but his sad eyes settled on Dean, and his lips tugged into a smile. "It's what I want."
Dean wiped at his face, and Sam was horrified to see he was crying. He was so happy he was shedding tears, and Sam hated it. Dean's joy was coming at the price of Sam's free will.
Chuck was doing this to Sam, taking away the little control he had been left with, and he was trapping him in another lie. Sam was going to be dragged back into life; he was going to have to play the part of Lucifer's brother. And he couldn't say a word about how it happened, to warn them about Chuck, as then Dean would know that none of it was Sam's choice. He would know Sam had truly intended to abandon him to his guilt because he'd choose not to come back over saving him from pain.
Sam was going to live a lie with his enemy, and there wasn't a thing he could do about it.
Chuck smiled benevolently. "Then let's get you what you want."
He snapped his fingers, and Dean disappeared with a soft gasp. Sam felt the strings on him drop, and he roared with rage and flew at Chuck. He couldn't hurt him, couldn't do a thing but shout, but he had to do something.
"You asshole!"
Chuck grabbed Sam's arm and squeezed hard, pinning him in place. "I'm about done wasting time on you like this, Sam. You have seen what I can do now, what I can really do, and you should know your place. You're going back to your family, Nick included, and you're going to live a long life. I'm dropping the strings. You can all make your own story."
"I will find a way to make you pay," Sam threatened.
"You won't," Chuck said calmly. "There is no way. I have what I want. Lucifer is living the life I want him to have, and you're being suitably punished. I win, Sam."
"What next then?" Sam asked. "You're just going to watch me cringe every time Nick talks to me?"
"That would be boring. I'm sure you can come up with something more interesting to do than that." He laughed. "You might as well make the best of it, Sam. This is your life now."
Sam dropped his arms. "And if I do make the best of it, if I play nice with Nick and become the middle son, what kind of story will that make? You'll get bored."
Chuck stared at him for a moment. "Perhaps, I will."
"Then what's to stop me playing along and living a boring life to take away your fun?"
"It would hurt you to do it."
Sam felt a smile curl his lips. "It would hurt you more. You're all about the stick, Chuck, and there's no carrot. I can go back now and walk out five minutes later and never go near them again. What fun would that be for you to watch?"
"You wouldn't abandon Dean."
"He wouldn't be alone. He'd have Nick."
There was a soft laugh, and Sam looked up to see Amara step out of the mist that surrounded them. "He's not wrong, brother," she said.
Chuck frowned. "I thought you said you wanted no part of this. Are you going to interfere?"
She considered a moment. "I wouldn't call it interfering. I think we can both agree that Sam has been punished, and in the process, Dean has, too." Her brows pinched together. "You didn't tell me he'd be hurt."
Chuck threw up his arms. "He's not hurt! Sam's going back. Dean gets what he wants."
"But he killed Sam, and now you're sending him a brother with nothing left to fight for other than to destroy your enjoyment. That will hurt Dean, too."
"What do you want Dean to have?" Chuck asked. "I can make it happen."
"I don't want you to make anything happen," she said. "I want him to live the life he deserves with his real brother - freely. That will make him happy."
"I'm not taking Lucifer's new life away," Chuck said defiantly. "He deserves what he has now. It's our fault he didn't have it before."
Amara shrugged. "Lucifer is not my concern. Dean—and therefore Sam—is."
"Dean loves Lucifer!" Chuck exploded. "They're brothers."
Amara nodded slowly. "Because that's what you created. Dean would not suffer if you took it away again as long as he had Sam."
"I'm giving him them both," Chuck said defensively.
"It's not the same thing," Amara said, considering Sam.
"I won't take away what Lucifer has," Chuck said again.
"No, I don't think you even can," Amara said. "He's changed too much to survive alone now. But Sam deserves better. Give up the strings, brother. Let them control their own fates."
Chuck frowned. "I already did."
"But you can pick them up again," she said. "You need to cut them. Let them all live their lives free of your intervention."
Chuck sighed and made a snipping motion with his fingers. "There. Done. Sam, Dean, and Nick have free will to do what they want. All of them will. But…" He grinned. "I can't change anything that came before, Sam. They won't believe you if you tell them the truth. They can't."
"That's fine," Amara said serenely. "They don't need to be told anything."
Chuck eyed her suspiciously. "What are you doing?"
Amara looked suitably innocent. "Me? Nothing. Just like you, I am going to watch." She flicked her fingers at him. "Now, you better prepare them for the resurrection. I'm sure you want to set the stage and hear their undiluted praise."
Chuck stared at her for a moment and then nodded and disappeared.
Amara waited a moment and then spoke in an urgent rush, "I'm not sure how much control I have over this, Sam, because you're not my creations, but his strings are cut, and he will not be able to mend them. Your life is your own, you can do what you want."
"As long as it's with Nick as a brother," Sam said bitterly.
"That remains to be seen," she said. "I can start a wheel turning, but I can't control the direction it takes." She stopped for a moment and seemed to listen for something. "Dean will be fine, I'll make sure of it. You have to control the rest."
"The rest of what?" Sam asked. "What wheel? What are you doing? Amara, you have to—"
Before he could say another word, there was a rushing sound like a gale-force wind and blue-white light powered towards him and rushed up to his chest, centering over his heart.
His questions were going to have to wait. It was time to go back.
So… Sam is going back—poor thing—but he has something of an ally in Amara. I'm looking forward to seeing what you think of how I develop her interference.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx