Thank you MaggieMay17 for beta'ing, Ncsupnatfan and VegasGranny for pre-reading, and you all for reading.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dean pushed himself out of his seat in the den and went to the bar he'd still not finished building. He grabbed a fresh beer from underneath the plank counter, then staggered back to his La-Z-Boy to flop down into it and kick up his feet.
He was well on his way to drunk, thanks to a whole morning and few hours of the afternoon spent drinking, and yet the alcohol had eased none of his frustration and sadness.
Dean had royally screwed up. He'd lost his brother, and there was no one left to blame in this world but himself. Castiel was gone, taking Dean's chance to vent at him.
Mary blamed him, he could tell. Dean had taken away her chance to get to know Sam by driving him away. He had let Sam down so much that Sam had fled to a post-apocalyptic world to get away from him.
Nick didn't seem to blame Dean; if anything, he'd been overly understanding about the whole thing, but Dean was sure that was going to wear off in time. When that happened, Dean would have no one left who loved Sam still willing to talk to him.
Jack didn't care. There was no reason he should, Sam was nothing to him, but Dean still saw the boy's peace of mind and resented it. After everything they'd been through, everything Sam had given to them, Jack was fine about him being gone. It felt wrong.
Dean unscrewed the cap of his bottle and took a long draw, then lowered it to his lap and leaned back his head against the cushions. He felt he should be doing something, helping somehow, but there was nothing. Their chance of finding the rift had disappeared with Jack, with the power that was slowly coming back to him, couldn't sense it. It was going to shrink and close without them ever finding it.
Even if Sam hadn't had the entire world to choose from when he picked a location to open it, they probably wouldn't have been able to find it. Sam was too smart to be traced if he didn't want to be.
"Dammit," he sighed.
He'd gone years without Sam, years full of fighting: costlywins , costlier losses, and pain; yet Dean felt even more raw now than he had the moment Castiel first reported that Sam had given consent to Lucifer.
Back then, there had been hope that they would get Sam back. Then Sam had died, and Dean had accepted the fact Sam was at peace. When Crowley resurrected Sam's body as Lucifer's vessel again, Dean briefly harbored some hope that they might get Sam back again, but it was just a flicker. He'd assured himself Sam wasn't in there with Lucifer, that he'd gone to Heaven the way Jimmy had when Castiel died. All those years he'd lived with the loss of Sam just a passing thought from time to time. Dean had long ago mastered the skill of avoiding thinking about Sam whenever they encountered Lucifer. But now that he'd had a God-given chance to have his brother back and lost it, could never have Sammy back again, it was like Dean was grieving Sam's loss for the first time.
Dean raised his head as the door opened, and Nick peered inside, calling a tentative, "Dean, you in here?"
"I'm here," Dean said.
Nick came in, looked from the bottle of beer in Dean's hand to the empty bottles on the floor at his side, and frowned. "You should stop drinking when beer runs through your veins instead of blood."
"Don't think I'm there yet," Dean said lazily. "Still got a few bottles to go."
Nick got himself a beer and came to sit in the chair beside Dean's. He unscrewed the cap and brought it to his lips, then lowered it without drinking and said, "Mom's going to head out to join Bobby in Delaware. He's got what he thinks is a vampire nest."
"She didn't want to tell me herself?"
"She will," Nick said. "She's still getting her stuff ready."
Dean took a swig of beer and pressed his fingers to his temples to offset the building headache there. "You don't need to make it okay, Nicky. She's pissed. I get that. I'm the one that drove Sam off."
Nick paled, though Dean didn't know if it was from shock or anger. Nick had schooled his features into a mask the way he did when he wanted to hide what he was feeling. "You didn't drive Sam off."
Dean snorted. "No? He's still here then? Wonder when he'll come by again."
"He made a choice, Dean—he made it. No one forced him to leave."
"You didn't hear me, Nick. You were unconscious. I was such a dick to him."
Nick winced. "It wasn't you. It was me. It was my hell he had to take on; it was me he was saving. That's why he left. What he took from me…." He shook his head. "I did this to him. It was me."
"Don't be…." Dean stopped himself when he caught sight of Nick's unconcealed guilt in the moment his mask slipped. There was more that Nick wasn't saying. "What do you mean?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral.
"It was my hell. He took what he did to save me. Sam had his own Lucifer-trauma that was already in his head, then he took on mine as well."
Dean hadn't considered the price of Sam's personal trauma with the added burden of Nick's. He'd almost forgotten it was there. Sam had seemed so strong, an archangel, and Dean hadn't seen him as vulnerable, but Sam had been Lucifer's chew toy for years both before and after Lucifer possessed Nick. Crowley's, too: the King of Hell had taken Sam's broken corpse and resurrected him, experimented on him, turned him into a living cage strong enough to contain Lucifer forever. Now he saw the real cost of what he'd asked Sam to do for them.
Dean felt sick. Trust Nick to figure it out first. It explained why Nick had been giving him the kid-gloves treatment. Instinctively Dean looked to his brother for – what? Comfort? Reassurance? But instead he could clearly see Nick was still hiding something from him.
"What's going on, Nicky?" he asked.
Nick averted his eyes, but Dean saw the conflict in them. "I don't know," he said. "It just feels like my fault."
Dean sighed and drained his beer, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. He wanted more from Nick, a real reason for what had happened that would make it possible to blame someone else, but he didn't think there was one. Nick was feeling guilty because it was for him that Sam had sacrificed himself, more than once, and that was making him see it wrong. It wasn't Nick's fault he'd been tortured in the Cage. It was Dean who had insisted Sam add Nick's trauma to his own as though it was no big thing.
Mary's voice called from along the hall. "Dean? Nick?"
"In here," Nick replied.
She appeared a moment later, her eyes following the same path of bottle to bottle to Dean the way Nick's had, and she frowned. Dean thought she was going to say something, maybe scold him, but she cleared her throat and said, "We need to talk. I'm heading east to join Bobby for a vamp nest."
"You want help?" Dean offered.
"No, we can handle it. And there's something you need to do here. Something is going on with Jack. He's… upset about something."
Dean frowned. "He was fine when we got back from the cabin."
"I know, but something's different now. He won't talk to me about it, so you two will have to reach him."
"We'll talk to him," Nick said. "He's probably just upset about Cas leaving. You know how close they were. And he didn't even say goodbye to the kid."
"Maybe," Mary said. "Talk to him, though. If it is that, he needs to be reminded that it wasn't because of him that Castiel left."
"No," Dean said. "It was me."
Mary stared at him a moment, and then she crossed the room in long strides and pulled on his arm. Dean allowed her to drag him to his feet and steady him.
She held his face in her hands and said, "You are not to blame. No one is. I was in that room, too, and I wanted Sam to do it, but it's not my fault either. Sam did what he had to do for his brother. And when he left, he was doing what he had to do for himself."
Dean shrugged, and her hands squeeze tighter, pressing against his jaw.
"Do you blame me?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.
"No," Dean said, his voice muffled by the pressure she was exerting.
"Then don't blame yourself." She released him. "I didn't have a chance to know Sam properly, he was just a toddler when I died, then Lucifer and Magnus made sure I never really got a chance to know him as a man. But I know that he loved you both because I knew that when he was two years old. That was why he did it. He would have done it even if we hadn't asked, because Nick is his family." She caressed Dean's cheek and then turned to Nick and touched his arm. "I love you both, and I love Sam. I won't ever get to see him again, so don't you two break my heart by doing this to yourselves."
Nick smiled slightly. "We won't. We'll be fine—won't we, Dean?"
"Yeah. We will," Dean said, pleased by the note of confidence in his voice.
Mary smiled at them and then slipped from the room. Dean waited until her footsteps had faded and then went to the bar for another beer.
"Dean…" Nick said with a sigh. "You don't need to do that."
"I know," Dean said. "But I want to." He uncapped the bottle and dropped into his seat again. "Go talk to Jack."
Nick stared at him, his frustration evident, and then he turned and followed their mother's path out of the room.
Nick wasn't exactly eager to talk to Jack, but he knew he should since Dean obviously wasn't going to. It was also a good excuse to be away from Dean.
He understood that his brother was upset, but it was so much more than he would have expected. It wasn't like Sam was the one Dean had fought and died for, or who had in turn saved Dean's life; Sam hadn't been by Dean's side for years of hunts, apocalypses, and monsters; Sam had never saved the world by throwing himself into the Cage, breaking Dean's heart. Those things had been Nick in this world. Here Sam was the one who had missed all those things. The bond that had been built during that time was between Dean and Nick, not Sam. Dean hadn't spent much time with Sam at all in years.
Nick angrily thought Chuck should have done a better job of lightening the bond between Sam and Dean. Why didn't Chuck's story play out in a way that served Nick better? It was a cruel and selfish thought, more something Lucifer would think than Nick, but it was hard for Nick to see Dean suffering like this without being able to help him.
He entered the library in time to see his mother heading to the garage with her duffel slung over her shoulder. He waited until she was gone, not wanting to have another discussion that made him feel like his heart was being constricted with guilt, and then headed through the library calling Jack's name.
There was no answer, and he wasn't in the kitchen when he checked, so Nick went to the bedroom and knocked on Jack's door. Instead of replying, Jack opened the door a crack and peered out.
"Do you need something?" he asked.
"Oh, uh… I just wanted to check in," Nick said.
"I'm fine," Jack said. "Just reading for a while." He closed the door an inch and said, "I'll see you later."
Surprised by the abrupt dismissal but accepting it, Nick patted the doorframe and said, "I'll leave you to your book then. I'm going to head into town and get some dinner for us. I don't think anyone feels like cooking. I'll call you when it's ready."
"Okay," Jack said, snapping the door closed before Nick had even taken two steps away.
Nick hesitated a moment about whether to go back to tell Dean he was heading out and to get his order, but he chose to go with his brother's usual choices instead. Nick wanted to avoid seeing Dean's unhappiness again. He grabbed the Impala keys from the map table in the war room and then headed through to the garage. Mary's car was gone from its space beside the Impala, and Nick calculated that she'd be out of the long tunnel that led from the bunker to the road. He got in the car and turned over the engine, turning up the Metallica tape that was playing in hopes of drowning out some of his tangled thoughts with the pounding beat it provided.
He managed to lose himself in the music for most of the ride to town, but when he pulled up outside Daisy's and the tape stopped, his head soon filled with his worries again.
The worst part for him was that he had what he wanted now, but he was the only one that did.
He'd been scared that Castiel would reveal his secret, but the angel hadn't said a word about it when venting his rage, even though it must have been tempting. As much as he wished Sam was still there with them for his family and himself, he knew he was safer with Sam gone. Now Castiel and Sam were in the other world. The rift was impossible to locate , and due to close in less than a day. Nick's secret was safe. He got to keep the good life he loved.
He had lost one brother for it, but even that was for the best. Nick cared about Sam, what he wanted and needed, and he knew Sam had to be happier now he didn't have to see his torturer in the man everyone else thought was his brother.
He climbed out and slammed the door closed with more force than he should, making him grateful that Dean wasn't there to ream him out for mistreating his 'Baby.' The diner was only half full, and Nick figured he'd be able to get his order pretty quickly. He wouldn't have minded a wait as it would have meant he had a little longer alone.
He went to the counter and slid onto a stool, picking up the tri-fold menu, even though he was a regular enough visitor to have memorized it. He scanned the items on offer, wondering what to get Jack. The boy had no real preference for any foodstuff except candy, so he was harder to order for. Finally, Nick decided on wraps for them both and set down the menu.
A young man that Nick hadn't seen in there before was working behind the counter. A kid with an unfortunate complexion, Nick guessed he was picking up weekend hours to top up an allowance. Grateful for the distraction, Nick spent a moment wondering what he was saving for: a car, maybe, or a guitar. Ordinary things. The boy came along to him and asked, "What can I get you, sir?"
"Two chicken club wraps, a bacon cheeseburger with extra onions and a double portion of fries, and two small salads, please. All to go."
The kid wrote the order down on a pad and passed it through the serving hatch, and said, "Drinks?"
"I'll take a coffee now," Nick said. "But I don't need anything else."
He didn't think he'd be able to get Dean to drink anything but beer anyway, and Jack was easily satisfied with coffee and what was in the fridge.
The kid fetched him a cup, sloshed some coffee into it, and then walked away to an elderly man that was standing with his wallet out and the check in his hand.
Nick sipped his coffee and looked around at the other people at their tables. As he had with the boy who took his order, Nick wondered what their lives were like. One thing he was sure of was that their problems were a lot less complicated than his. He'd thought his life had been screwed up in the past, when they were fighting monsters and apocalyptic battles, but at least then he'd had no guilt for what he'd done to Sam.
Except those things had never really happened: or, rather, he hadn't done them. Nick hadn't been Lucifer's perfect vessel, who heroically dragged the devil back into to the Cage to stop the Apocalypse. Nick wasn't the one that hunted side by side with Dean since Stanford. He'd never been to Stanford. That was all Sam. They weren't really Nick's memories. Chuck had stolen them from Sam and given them to him. Dean's misery over Sam wasn't really disproportionate at all.
He slammed down his coffee, and it spilled over the side of the cup. Sighing, he grabbed some napkins from the dispenser and mopped it up.
He wished Chuck could have taken the knowledge away from him. He could have gone on as Nick with no memory of his other life at all. He could have seen Sam as his brother only, not his victim, and he could have shared the pain of Sam's absence with Dean instead of resenting it.
His order came, and he paid then carried the paper bag out to the car. Unfortunately, the music didn't have the same magic on the way back, and his thoughts stayed loud in his head. By the time he'd pulled into the garage, he was feeling like crap.
He dropped the food bag down on the table in the library, then went to Jack's room and called, "Food's here," as he knocked on the door.
He heard a muffled agreement, and then he went in search of Dean, finding him in his rec room still, a new beer open in his hand. He snatched the bottle away, perhaps a little too roughly as some spilled onto Dean's lap, and said, "I brought food," in a softer tone to make up for the wet patch that Dean was glaring at.
"Not hungry," Dean grunted.
Nick's annoyance reared again, and he hauled Dean up by the arm. Dean was drunk enough to not resist, though he scowled.
"You're coming to eat," he said. "And we're going to talk to Jack together. Mom was right, there is something wrong with him, and neither of us gets to be selfish about it because we've got stuff going on."
"Selfish?" Dean asked, his eyebrows flying up. "You're seriously coming at me with selfish after what's happened?"
Nick's ire rose. "Yes, selfish. What happened with Sam has happened. He's gone now. We can't get him back. But we've got Jack, here, and the kid is messed up. He needs both of us since he doesn't have Cas anymore. So, suck it up and come eat with us."
Dean glowered at him, and then he seemed to deflate. His shoulders slumped, and he bowed his head. "Yeah. Sure."
Nick made his way back to the library with Dean following a little behind and saw that Jack had already sat down at the table with a six-pack of beers in front of him.
Nick opened the bag and handed Jack his wrap and salad, then set Dean's burger and fries down at the place beside him before taking his own food and sitting opposite them as Jack handed around beers.
Nick opened the salad box, took the plastic fork attached to the top, and then scooped it up. Dean and Jack also started to eat, and for a while, no one spoke.
When Nick was finished with his wrap, he balled up the wrapper and asked, "How are you doing, Jack?"
Jack looked up, his face a little wary, and said, "I… uh… I'm okay, I guess. How are you?"
"We will be okay," Nick said, as telling him they already were was going to be a blatant lie with the way Dean was scowling at the remains of his fries.
Jack glanced at Dean. "Will you?"
Dean started to nod and then sighed. "Honestly, kid, I don't know."
Jack bit his lip. "You're worried about Sam."
"Yeah, worried, missing him, scared of what he's going through in that crazy-ass world, helpless to do a damn thing about it."
"Dean…" Nick cautioned.
Jack drew a deep breath. "I think I can help."
Dean huffed a laugh. "That's sweet, kid, but I don't think there's anything you can do for us this time."
"I can help you get him back," Jack said.
Nick's head snapped to him so fast his neck clicked. "What?"
"I think I can open a rift," Jack said. "I'd need help, a dreamwalker, but…"
"You don't have enough grace," Nick said, his tone a little strained by his racing heart. "It'll take a long time before it comes back enough for you to do that."
Nick hadn't considered this. He'd thought it was over. Sam was gone. He'd have to wait for Dean to accept that and get back to normal, but then they could get on with their lives.
"No!" Dean said with dawning realization. "Jack doesn't have it, but we've got Michael's."
"We can't open a rift without the seal of Solomon," Nick pointed out.
"We don't need it." A wide smile spread over Dean's face. "Jack can use Michael's Grace to power himself up. That's why Sam gave it to him. We've got it all stowed away in the curse box. Jack doesn't need a spell to open a rift."
Jack flinched, and Nick saw his pain. He seized on it and said, "You don't want to do it though, do you, Jack?"
Jack shook his head, and Nick let out a small sigh of relief.
"I don't want to," Jack said. "But I will."
Nick's heart sped its pace, and he grappled to sound calm and sympathetic as he said, "You don't have to, Jack. We appreciate what you're offering us, but taking on something of Michael… We know how much you hate him."
"What?" Dean snapped. "Nick, he's giving us a chance to get Sammy back!"
"I'm not doing it for Sam," Jack said. "I barely know him, though I know he's your family, and you love him and want him back. But I do know Castiel. He was the one who was supposed to take care of me. He was who my mother trusted. He's like a father to me. I want him back like you want Sam back. If we can find a dreamwalker, I'll take Michael's grace and open the rift."
Dean's breaths were coming quickly with excitement and Nick's with worry. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was supposed to be over. This was him and Dean getting on with their lives, the risk to Nick's place in the Winchester family gone forever.
Dean picked up his beer in a shaky hand and took a swig. "Jack, man, this is…." He drew a breath to calm himself. "Are you sure about this? I mean, I want it, I want it more than anything, but Nick's right; this is you taking in a part of Michael."
Jack nodded. "I'm sure. I will do it for Castiel."
Dean beamed at him. "Okay, a dreamwalker. We'll find one. How did you do it last time?"
"It took a long time," Jack said. "I had to scour the internet, and I followed many leads before I found anyone that wasn't a fake. But we'll all be doing it together as a team. It will be faster that way."
"It will," Dean agreed. "Nicky, get your laptop running. We'll start now."
Nick forced a smile, retrieved his laptop from the shelf where he'd left it, and then carried it back to the table.
He had no chance of changing Dean or Jack's minds about doing this, so he had to throw himself in and help. They would find a dreamwalker for Jack, and then they would open a rift.
And then all Nick could do was hope and pray that Sam and Castiel would continue to keep his secret.
So… They have a plan! In the original outline, Castiel was supposed to be a part of this plan as he wasn't going to through the rift until they did, but I like it this way better. Sam needs the support, and Jack needs more motivation.
Until next time…
Jadey's World xxx