Chapter 5 is here. Starts off a little dark but I can't help it. I never miss a chance to mess with the boys' heads, especially Sam's. He makes it so easy ;)
Chapter 5
Sam found himself standing in a barren field, all grey and burnt. The smell of death was in his nostrils. It was cold, the familiar iciness that reminded him of the Cage. He suppressed a shiver.
"Dean?" he called. "Hey, Dean!"
His voice echoed in his ears, too loud for that silent land. He could not hear any answer.
"Dean!"
This time Sam was sure Dean could not hear Sam, or was not there at all. If Dean had been able to answer Sam, he would have. He would definitely not have stood by while Sam was calling his name in such a panic.
Sam drew a deep breath, resisting the urge to start tearing at his hair in a panic.
"OK," he said, breathing deeply. "OK, this is just…Dean has to be somewhere else. We were sent to different places, that's all…"
Dean alone in Tuonela was not something Sam liked to think about. After all, the only point of Dean coming with him was so that the two of them could be together and back each other up.
Sam turned around on the spot. He tried to see something through the coiling mists. There was nothing, though. Only a dead land that stretched on and on and seemed to have no end.
"Dean?" he tried again.
The silence that greeted him after his call was not even unexpected this time.
Sam steeled himself. Dean had to be somewhere around. Sam had to look for him. Or maybe something had gone wrong and Dean had not made it to Tuonela at all. It did not matter. Sam would still have to go on. Now he was here, he knew he could not go back until his task was finished – with or without Dean.
He took several steps. Instead of the mist parting in front of him, it gathered around him even more, blinding him and chocking him. The smell of death was even stronger now. He told himself to ignore it and all the bad memories it brought and simply keep going. It was the only thing he could do.
He did not know how long he walked like that. There had been no sign of Dean all that time. What had been was the inescapable sensation that he was not getting anywhere. He was going in circles. He remembered Piru doing something similar to him in the woods in Gatlinburg and wondered if this was not a similar test.
Sam kept walking, trying to ignore how the air was getting thinner and he was getting dizzier. At one point, he thought he could glimpse shadows through the mists. He knew he was no longer alone. He also knew none of the shadows were Dean, though. So he kept walking.
Suddenly, the mists drew back. Sam stopped dead in his tracks. A few paces ahead of him, stood his nightmare made flesh. Lucifer, leaning against a tree, looking as unfazed as he always did. Sam drew a step back.
"No," he said tightly. "You're not here. You're dead. You're gone."
Lucifer smirked.
"Dead," he repeated. "Isn't this the land of the dead, though? I don't see a problem, really."
Sam kept shaking his head.
"You wouldn't be here, would you? You'd be in the Empty. And you're not here. You're not real."
Lucifer tilted his head behind him.
"What about her?" he asked casually. "Is she real?"
Sam stiffened as he looked over Lucifer's shoulder at th black haired woman approaching them.
"Hello, Sam," she said.
"Ruby," he gasped, then shook his head. "No. you're not here, either. This is…this is…"
"A figment of your imagination?" Ruby asked. "Maybe some hallucination prompted by whatever it is you took to get you here…You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Sammy?"
Sam noticed the blood flowing from Ruby's arms. He remembered that blood. He wished he could close his eyes and find himself back at the house. Away from Ruby. Away from the fear and the twisted feelings they were forcing on him.
"Let me guess," Lucifer said. "This isn't what you were expecting. You were thinking you'd have to fight monsters to get inside Tuonela, did you? Well, Sammy, I hate to break it to you, but you are."
Sam frowned. He watched as Lucifer took several steps towards him. Against his will, he found himself stepping back.
"We're the monsters, Sammy," Lucifer said. "All the things that you have up there in your head." He reached out and Sam shrank back. "If you want to get to Tuonela, you have to get past us."
Well, Sam mused bitterly, no one had said it was going to be easy. It made sense, though. Legends said that the shamans who entered Tuonela had to trick the guards into thinking they were dead. How else would you convince them you were not alive anymore save by letting go of all the things that had kept you bound to life? Dead men did not feel fear, Sam thought, watching Lucifer and Ruby. They did not feel guilt or revulsion or self-hatred. Sam had always considered Lucifer and Ruby the epitome of his mistakes. The two things he would never be able to forgive himself for. The two mistakes he was sure Dean would never let slide.
"I've let you out not once but twice," Sam said pointing to Lucifer. "And as for you," he added glancing at Ruby who was grinning at him with blood on her lips. "I regret every single second I spent with you and how it twisted me. You two are…there is no worse nightmare for me."
"You sure about that?"
The new voice had Sam freezing. He knew the clipped, deadly tones. He heard them every day, only that tone of voice was seldom directed towards him. He watched Dean appear from the shadows. Only it wasn't really Dean. The figure wearing Dean's face had black eyes and an empty, deadly expression. He wore the Mark of Cain on his arm. This was the Dean of Sam's nightmares, the proof of the many times Sam had failed his brother.
"What's the matter, Sammy?" Dean taunted. "You don't like to see me like this? You don't like to see what your actions did to me?"
Sam could not even move anymore. He stood there as if this was his final judgment and even that small still rational part in his brain telling him this wasn't really Dean could not get through anymore. Dean took a step forward. From the corner of his eyes, Sam could see Ruby and Lucifer doing the same, but for once the meaning did not register to him. He only had eyes for Dean.
"What is this?" he gasped. "Why am I seeing this? What's the point?"
"The point, Sam, is that you carry a lot of baggage," Dean pointed out. "And you can't enter Tuonela with it."
Sam grimaced.
"Then we have a problem."
Dean nodded.
"You know what the problem is, Sam? You abandoning me again. You don't want to face your nightmares – then you can't get in. But see, here's the problem, little brother. I'm already in there. I mean the real me. The me who, for some reason I really don't get, keeps you around instead of tossing you away once and for all."
"This is what you think you really deserve, isn't it, Sam?" Ruby spoke, so close to him that Sam jumped. "You think you've done so many things to him, Dean shouldn't give you the time of day anymore."
Sam could smell her blood. He turned his head away from her and found Lucifer standing just as close to him. Dean was in front. The only way Sam could get away from them all was to turn around and leave. But that meant not entering Tuonela. And that meant abandoning his brother in there.
"It's not like you haven't done it before, right?" the Dean of his nightmares said. "You've left me time after time and I still don't get it. What about Stanford, Sam? What about Purgatory?"
Sam tried to deny the accusations.
"You said it was behind us," he pointed out. "Dean forgave me for that."
Dean's eyes never wavered.
"It's funny, the way you expect Dean to do what you haven't been able to do yourself."
Sam froze, comprehension hitting him so hard, it nearly stunned him.
"Are you saying this is about me forgiving myself? That's what it'll take for me to get past you?"
Dean snorted in amusement. The expression was so much like his brother that, for a moment, Sam began to have hope.
"You can get past me – past all of us, whenever you want, Sammy. The only one stopping yourself is you."
Sam was starting to understand what this meant. Acceptance of who he was and what he had done – something that he was still struggling to achieve and still having trouble with it. After returning from the Cage, he had been sure he had finally made peace with his mistakes. Then came Purgatory and the trials and on and on his mistakes kept hitting them, hitting Dean which was something Sam could never accept. But now not making peace with himself could mean leaving Dean alone and without backup in Tuonela. And Sam could not do it. He would never have been able to forgive himself for his own sake. But he could do it for Dean's.
"All right," he agreed taking a step forward. "All right, I'll…I'll get past you." He stopped and glanced at Ruby. "All of you."
"Are you sure, Sam?" Ruby asked with feigned concern as her blood dripped at her feet. "Do you think it's so easy?"
"Of course it isn't," Sam said, taking a step forward until he was actually level with her. "But it's what needs to be done right now. And I'm willing to do it."
"For Dean." Ruby said flatly. "For the same person you once thought didn't understand you. the same person you betrayed."
Sam had actually moved past her. He could still smell her blood but he did not have to look at her anymore. He smiled icily.
"Guess that should keep me more motivated to make it up to him, shouldn't it?"
He sensed Ruby's scowl behind him, but did not look back. He was now level with Lucifer. The cold was more than the fog around him now. His hands were trembling.
"You know you can't get rid of me that easily, Sam," Lucifer told him. "I've got two hundred years of breaking you in ways you never thought you could be broken. You think your strength of will is enough for you to just let go of what I did to you?"
He was right, Sam knew that. No amount of wishing could make him get over even a fraction of what Lucifer had done to him. No amount of telling himself it was finally over would stop the nightmares. But he could finally do what he had never been able to in all those years and actually talk to Dean about it. Tell Dean everything – even the things he was sure Dean would not want to hear. Dean would listen, no matter how hard it was. Sam took another step and saw the smirk on Lucifer's face falter.
"You're part of my past," he said. "But for once you don't have to be part of my future, too."
He managed to glimpse the furious expression on Lucifer's face before the image faded. Now Sam was left only with Dean – the dark side of Dean, the Dean that was broken beyond repair and Sam had to remind himself that this was not his brother. It was just a representation of all Dean had gone through because of Sam.
"Guess it's just you and me now, Sammy," Dean said, the words clipped and hard, the tone one he only rarely used on Sam.
This was it, Sam thought. The moment of truth. Could he let go of his guilt when it came to Dean? All the times he had disappointed his brother, could Sam really accept them and move on?
"I can't forgive myself," he admitted. "But I suppose I can go on living in a way that will make it up to you. I can promise you I won't disappoint you again."
Sam had actually been trying to do that for a long time. He would have never explicitly say it to Dean though – Dean would have never wanted to hear something like that. So having a version of Dean to which he could pledge himself was actually cathartic in a twisted kind of way.
He noticed the look on Dean's face – brighter, clearer, closer to the brother Sam knew. He was about to say something else when the world upended itself. Sam had the feeling that he was falling from a great height – if this was proof that he had passed his test, it was not a comforting one.
His eyes snapped open and he found himself lying in the soft grass next to a river. Dean was standing above him, looking at Sam as if he was the greatest miracle Dean had ever witnessed.
xxxxXXXXxxxx
"Dean!" Sam said, trying to get up. "You're here…"
Dean was beside Sam in a flash, preventing him from getting up.
"Stay still, Sam," he said tightly. "You…you weren't well a few minutes ago."
Sam tried to figure out what had happened. He had gotten past the Dean of his nightmares, that was the last thing he remembered. He did not know how he had come to be lying there with the real Dean beside him. He tried to take an inventory of his health. He felt fine – a little lightheaded and with a strange pain in his ribs he could not explain. Had he fallen? Had he been attacked? Why couldn't he remember anything?
"How did you find me?" he asked.
Dean was running his own inventory on Sam. He looked up frowning.
"What do you mean, found you? You were here the whole time."
Sam shook his head.
"No…I drank that thing and I got to this place with fog and you weren't there…"
The look on Dean's face had the words dying on Sam's lips. There was something here he could not understand.
"Dean, what happened?"
Dean look away biting his lips.
"I found myself here. I was facing the river. Then I turned around and saw you lying there. I knew immediately something was wrong." He paused and took a deep breath, then he went on quickly, as if the words brought him pain. "You weren't breathing, Sam! And I searched for a pulse and there wasn't any."
Sam froze. That was not something he was expecting.
"That's impossible. I was…I was awake the whole time. Only not here. I was somewhere else. Passing some test. Earning entrance inside Tuonela."
Dean acted as if he had not heard him, caught in the memory.
"At first, I wondered if it was not supposed to be that way – I mean, we're in the land of the dead, so breathing might not be needed, right? But I was breathing fine and I was awake while you weren't, so I started to think maybe it wasn't that. Maybe it was a side effect of the drink or…I don't know."
Sam noticed Dean's hands were shaking.
"What happened next, Dean?" he prompted gently.
He himself was quite freaked out by Dean's story. He had been dead, according to his brother. But he did not feel dead.
"I tried CPR," Dean said. "Must have tried for…I don't know…half an hour?"
At least that explained why his ribs were sore.
"You still wouldn't wake up," Dean went on, not looking at Sam. "Wouldn't breathe. I was starting to think that maybe I was going about it the wrong way. Maybe you – your soul or whatever, was already in Tuonela and I had to go find you. Maybe the only way to make sure you'd be alive when I woke up back at the house was to leave you here."
And that explained why Dean was so wrecked.
"It can't have been easy," Sam said sympathetically.
Dean frowned, about to say something scathing. Sam was quick to intervene.
"You were about to leave when I woke up, weren't you?"
Dean wouldn't look at Sam, as if admitting it would somehow shatter his entire world. Sam reached out and grasped Dean's hand.
"I know it won't make you feel any better, but you did exactly what you had to do," he said earnestly. "This was a test, Dean. I told you we'd have to trick the guards into thinking we're dead. Well, dead means letting go of what binds you to life. Trust me, Dean, you deciding to leave my body here was the only thing you could have done."
Dean searched Sam's eyes. He then shook his head.
"I wasn't going to abandon you, Sam," he said tightly. "I thought leaving could bring you back."
"And it did," Sam agreed.
He made to get up. Dean reached out, this time helping instead of hindering him. Sam swayed slightly once on his feet, but Dean held on until Sam got his bearings.
"What now?" Dean asked.
Sam turned to look at the river. He noticed the boat next to it.
"Now we cross into Tuonela."
Dean eyed the boat with open mistrust.
"Hopefully without swallowing water this time. I've had enough messing with my head for a lifetime."
Sam eyed Dean in concern. They would have to talk about their first moments in Tuonela, but now was not the time. Sam would make sure they did talk, though, if only when they were back in the States. After all, he had his own demons to exorcize.
The crossing went smoothly this time. Nothing capsized the boat and Sam was beginning to breathe easier. They stopped on the next bank and Sam got out first. Dean was just about to get out himself, when a powerful current pushed the boat onwards, with Dean still inside.
"Sam!" Dean cried, meeting his brother's panicked expression.
Neither of them could reach out to the other. They would risk falling into the river and drinking its waters. The boat was moving faster now. Sam was running along with it on the bank, but he was quickly losing ground.
"Dean!" he shouted, as is calling his brother's name would somehow stop the inevitable. "Dean!"
He was losing Dean, unable to keep up with the boat's unnatural speed. Sam ran on, keeping his eyes fixed on Dean's frantic face, his brother's calls spurring him on. He was out of breath now, his ribs burning after Dean's impromptu CPR session earlier. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, but still he ran on. He had to get to Dean.
As he ran, he tripped over an overgrown root, which sent him sprawling face-first on the hard grown. The pain in his ribs took his breath away, causing bright lights to appear in front of his eyes. He lay there gasping, unable to tell if the roaring in his ears came from the river or as only a result of lack of oxygen.
When he could finally raise his head, he was alone. There was no sign of the boat or his brother. Sam let his head drop back to the ground, despair making him almost dizzy. The thing he had feared had actually happened. He had been separated from Dean.
XXXxxxxXXX
Dean watched helplessly as the strong current pushed the boat further downstream, carrying him away from his brother. Sam was already losing ground and Dean could do nothing to help him. He'd already drunk from the waters of the river the last time. He knew it would lead to unconsciousness and a bad trip and, if Sam tried to pull him out he would be exposed too.
At one point Dean lost sight of Sam – he was lagging behind anyway and it looked like he had been having trouble keeping up with the boat. Dean swore. This could not have been a coincidence. Someone had wanted them separated. And that could never be a good thing.
The boat started to slow down. Gradually, it drifted closer to the bank, until finally it stopped altogether. Dean wasted no time in getting out. He looked at the miles stretching behind him, wavering. Sam was somewhere out there, most likely worried out of his mind. Dean wondered if he should not retrace his steps until he ran into Sam. He turned to look at what was waiting for him ahead and spotted some kind of stone structure, like a fortress.
It was the only one for miles and it had to be significant. Sam would keep going in the same direction he had seen Dean being carried away by the boat and he was bound to find the fortress and come to the same conclusion Dean had. it was as good of a meeting place as any. Doubling back for Sam would have meant wasting time and time was a limited resource for them. Dean had no idea how much they had already lost.
Dean headed for the fortress. It was cold, he realized, the kind of unfriendly cold that had him shivering. The place was silent, but Dean was sure he was not alone. There was a sense of being watched that had his hairs standing on end.
He walked for a while and the fortress seemed to be getting no closer, like some twisted version of the fata morgana. Dean was beginning to get irritated with the whole thing. If these were tests, he did not like them. He could not understand why all these powerful entities could not be straightforward for once.
As he walked the sense of watchfulness increased. There was no doubt about it now that something was dogging Dean's footsteps. He turned around several times, but could not see anything. He shrugged.
"Fine," he muttered. "Have it your way."
He was just passing a line of dead trees when something slammed against him, sending him sprawling to the ground. Dean rolled over and drew his gun. He watched the tall horned creature – a kind of demon? He wondered vaguely before deciding it wasn't relevant what it was – prowling close to him ready to spring. Dean fired, hitting the creature point blank.
It staggered, looking surprised that Dean had actually dared to fight back. Then it drew back its head and gurgled a sickly laugh. Dean moved backwards, his gun still aimed at his enemy.
Something jumped him from behind. Another of those things, smaller this time. It tried to get the gun away from him. Dean fought and kicked with all his mind, vaguely aware that several more of the creatures had joined the other two. Dean was outnumbered. This did not look good.
One of the creatures managed to wrestle the gun away from Dean, wrenching his arm in the process. The pain made him see stars. He tried to crawl away, to gain some distance so that he could see how to continue the fight but he was now pinned to the ground. The first creature, the one he had shot, was now standing above him with a sharp knife. Dean stared at it defiantly.
The creature raised its knife, but it did not have time to stab Dean. Suddenly, it lurched backwards as if something had pulled it off Dean. Then, it fell to the ground with its neck wrenched. Dean stared at the figure now engaged in a fight with the demons. It wasn't Sam – he had thought this was Sam rescuing him, at first, but the man was shorter than Sam, with yellowish hair. He looked like some Viking, Dean thought wryly. Only when two more demons were dead and the others had disperse did Dean realize why his rescuer seemed so familiar.
"I'll be damned. You're Pekka."
The man hesitated, then reached out his hand to help Dean up. He was scowling.
"You know, when a man is dead, he doesn't want to be stopped and asked for autographs anymore."
Dean shook his head.
"No, it's not that. I know you. well, I know Elias. We met in Gatlinburg. I'm Dean Winchester…"
Pekka's frown deepened.
"Right. What the hell are you doing here, Dean Winchester?"
Dean rubbed at his right hand. The demons had not broken it, at least, but that was not for lack of trying. Mobility was going to be a problem for a few days.
"Right now, I'm trying to get to that fortress over there. And trying to find my brother."
Pekka rolled his eyes.
"Come with me. You can't get to that fortress all on your own because, I suspect, you're not really dead, are you? So you need someone who's really dead to guide you."
Dean could not hide his suspicion.
"So…you'll help me? Out of the goodness of your heart?"
"No," Pekka said bluntly. "I'm just hoping you'll do whatever it is you want to do and leave as soon as possible. You've been a menace since that day in Gatlinburg."
Dean suspected he had been called worse. As they started walking, Dean could not help glancing at Pekka. It should not have been surprising that he was in Tuonela. But the ease with which he conducted himself made him wonder what else was going on.
"You know," he commented. "You've got a hell of a lot of explaining to do to a lot of people."
Pekka did not even look back.
"I don't, actually. I'm dead, remember? Dead people don't owe the living any explanations whatsoever."
"They do when they cozy up to goddesses who then ask them for three favors – or more than three. Just curious – what did you ask for? What could have possibly been so important that it drove you to make a deal?"
This time, Pekka did turn to face him. He did not look pleased by Dean's accusations.
"Word around Tuonela is that your brother owes Mielikki three favors, too."
"Technically, he owes her only one. He already did the other two."
Pekka nodded knowingly.
"Yes, and a lot of good it did to the rest of the world. Killing a guardian of Tuonela and killing a powerful goddess – however justified it caused a lot of problems. Those demons that attacked you were there on Lempo's orders. So were the hiidet that took me out, by the way. I knew it would happen after I agreed to help Mielikki even though I technically granted all three of her favors. She was desperate, I suppose."
"So, what was it with you and Mielikki?" Dean repeated.
Pekka seemed to struggle to contain his irritation.
"If you must now…It was sometime before joining Apostles of Shadow. I was in a mountain climbing accident. My right hand got crushed and the doctors were afraid I'd lose it. Now, I'm a bass player. Was a bass player – whatever. That was my life and my livelihood. And now I was going to lose it. I had every intention of throwing myself down a precipice. Then Mielikki came."
"She healed your hand," Dean discovered.
Pekka nodded quickly.
"In exchange for three favors. She was pretty upfront about that from the beginning, so it's not like I didn't know what I was getting myself into. Or maybe I really didn't – I'm here, aren't I?"
"So, one of your favors," Dean said deciding to get straight to the point. "Was it something to do with Elias? Were you supposed to do something to Elias?"
Pekka grimaced.
"Do something to Elias? What do you think I am, a hired assassin? I think that's more your M.O. Anyway, she didn't want me to harm Elias – most definitely not. Just to find him. It's why I joined the Apostles of Shadow. I suspected Elias was the one I was looking for, but I needed to dig a little deeper. I ended up staying because…well, because I found myself a family."
"Which you abandoned," Dean pointed out.
Pekka ignored him.
"Elias had no idea. I very much hope he never will. He shouldn't have to deal with this."
Dean searched Pekka's face.
"What is Elias to Mielikki?" he pressed. "What aren't you telling me?"
Pekka grimaced.
"Mielikki has this penchant for taking on human lovers…"
Dean stopped in his tracks.
"Are you saying…she and Elias…?"
Elias had seemed honest when claiming that he had not known Mielikki as something other than a groupie running after Pekka. Besides, Dean doubted Mielikki was Elias' type.
"Not her lover, no," Pekka said quickly. "Elias is her son."
He quickened his pace. Dean gaped after him. He could not even make any of the quips he would have made in similar situations about soap opera revelations. He was too stunned by the news.
xxxXXXxxxx
Ole watched the two brothers. He had no idea what was going on with them now, whether they had indeed reached Tuonela or whether they were simply unconscious, their minds shut down by the concoction he had given them. He supposed it did not matter in the grand scheme of things. The end would still be the same.
The door opened, squeaking slightly. Ole looked up at the newcomer, taking in the young, almost naïve features. He would have looked like your typical hopeful dreamer, if one missed the goat hooves, of course.
"So," Piru said, glancing at the Winchesters. "You've done it, then."
Ole looked away.
"I've done what you asked. I want out of it now."
Piru tilted his head, eyeing Ole critically.
"Do I detect a hint of regret in your voice?"
Ole sighed.
"I did not like it. Any of it. Tricking them. Using them. Leading them into potential harm. They're good men."
Piru shrugged.
"That depends on who you ask. But I do intend to treat them fairly – that should be a comfort to you, shouldn't it?"
"Not really," Ole admitted. "You'd still be using them for your own purposes."
Piru's face turned stony.
"True. I will. But here is something that will make you feel better. Your granddaughter is quite safe now. And next time, tell her it's not smart to summon demons. Her ancestors were shamans. She should have known better."
Ole did not answer. He turned towards the door and left. He did not dare to glance back, where he had left Piru alone with the oblivious brothers.
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed. And don't worry. I promise to have Sam and Dean reunited real quick.
On a side note, it's been about a year since I started posting and I'm still having loads of fun (and I still have ideas for future stories, which is unexpectedly awesome. When I started this I was sure I'd stop at one or two stories).