AN: As advertised, this chapter has a lot of talking, but our boys have a lot to talk about! So I hope you don't find it actually too much talking.
I know Dean is a tad dickish at the beginning, but remember what he's just been through...and he does apologize.
As always, don't read if you don't like a few swear words or are allergic to schmoop.
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"I'll be just a minute." Dean unlocked the door to their ugly little room in the only motel in Della's Hollow and piled the bags of takeout he was carrying onto Sam's arms with the drinks he already held. "Don't eat my onion rings."
The homey little diner just down the road from the coffee shop had been surprisingly busy, so they'd opted for takeout so they could have a private and probably fraught conversation. But even though he was hungry, Dean had a phone call he wanted to make before they started The Talk. He probably shouldn't make it while he was pissed off, but living with the feeling that Sam was balanced on a knife's edge and could fall at any time had him more than a little bit on edge himself. Sure, he thought the wall would hold. He had to believe it. But the hint of fragility awoke every protective instinct that had been stomped down by the size 14's of the body building, sleepless, soulless freak that had been hunting at Dean's side before.
Dean wasn't ashamed to admit that he'd been afraid of that Sam, of his cold efficiency and sheer physical strength. (Hell, that bloody smile alone had made more than one appearance in Dean's nightmares, and that was when he was being helpful.) This Sam was the same physically, yet was full of all the empathy and kindness and yes, love, that the other had lacked. This one was and always would be Dean's little brother. Somehow, being around Letty and Kay had only sharpened that feeling. Which made Sam's vulnerability only piss Dean off more.
"Dean? Everything okay?" Bobby answered.
"No, everything is not okay, Bobby. We found the Ibeji alright, but did you know there's some kind of trial or something we have to make it through before they'll help us? I know you can't stand to look at Sam right now, but is that why you sent us here? So he'll have to prove he's really back or some stupid shit like that?"
Dean heard Bobby's harshly indrawn breath, and pushed down any guilt he felt for calling out his oldest friend.
"Get your head out of your ass, Dean," Bobby said after a heavy moment. "You know better than that. I might be havin' a hard time dealin' with Sam right now, but I'm workin' on it. I sent you cuz bodies were droppin' and I thought the Ibeji'd listen to you two idjits. And I thought you could use a cupcake assignment. That's what I figured this would be. C'mon, Dean. I have always had your back. Both of your backs." He sounded rightly pissed off, but sad too.
It was Dean's turn to blow out a long breath. "I know. I know. I'm sorry, Bobby." And because this was the one living person besides Sam that Dean truly trusted, he added. "Trust's a little hard to come by right now."
"I get that." Bobby's voice sounded more normal, and it was unaccountably reassuring. "Listen, if you think it's too dangerous to negotiate with these things, forget it. We'll figure somethin' else out."
Dean closed his eyes. He was grateful for the offer, and he wanted to agree to it. Oh, did he want to agree to it.
"I mean it, Dean," continued Bobby when Dean didn't answer right away. "I know you gotta feel like you're sittin' on a hand grenade hopin' that Death played it straight with you and that the wall will do what it's supposed to."
"Yeah, yeah. No shit. But no, Bobby. We'll go meet with the old ladies and see if we can't get 'em to stop the bodies from droppin'."
"Are you sure? Maybe it wasn't fair of me to ask."
Dean laughed a little bitterly. When had fair ever applied to Winchesters? "Yeah. Thanks for the offer, but we'll finish this. And Bobby…?"
"Shut up, Dean. I expect you two to get back here when you're done. We need to get your brother to stop lookin' like a whipped puppy."
This time, Dean's laugh was more genuine. "No kidding. Yeah, we'll be there, so stock up on Hunter's Helper, will ya? Now I gotta go before Sam eats all my onion rings."
"Be careful, boy. Tell your brother the same."
Dean hung up feeling better. Bobby could hold a grudge, but when he forgave someone, he did it completely and unreservedly. Dean knew things between the older man and Sam would be different now, which meant Sam might be a little more able to forgive himself. Maybe. Hopefully.
Dean sighed and allowed himself one more moment of worry and weakness. Then he shoved the melancholy, the worry, all of it into a deep dark hole and pulled a mantle of devil may care around himself and stepped into the room. "You better not have touched my food, bitch!"
WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER
By unspoken agreement, the boys hadn't talked while they ate the really good food. Dean's meatloaf and mashed potato sandwich was as good as advertised, and required a fork to eat. When it was gone, he dragged his onion rings (which Sam of course hadn't touched) through the leftover potatoes and gravy. Sam ate his own food – pork chops, potato wedges, and something green that Dean wouldn't have touched with a ten-foot pole – with surprising enthusiasm, especially considering it wasn't all rabbit food. Or maybe not so surprising. That extra muscle mass had to require extra calories.
Dean watched his brother surreptitiously, and remembered how the soulless version had showed very little pleasure in food, seemingly only eating for fuel. He drank like it was his job, but didn't seem to enjoy that, either. At least real Sam could reap the benefits of the added strength and alcohol tolerance the dick version had cultivated for him. Dean winced and wondered what other souvenirs Sam had to live with, like the nasty scar on his right bicep.
"What? What's wrong?" asked Sam. He hadn't appeared to be watching Dean, but obviously had been.
"Nothing. Just thinking."
"About what?" Sam wiped his fingertips on the napkin he'd set next to the tray of food. And it was such a prissy thing to do, such a stupid little detail that was all Sam that nobody else in the world would have noticed that Dean smiled. The smile wiped out the concern on Sam's face, but he still looked curious.
"You know how kids go through a why phase? Well, yours lasted like fifteen years instead of one. Man, you always had to know everything about everything. Why are grown up boys bigger than grown up girls, Dean? Why do mommy elephants always have baby elephants and never baby zebras, Dean? Why can't I ride in the front seat, Dean? Why do people have necks, Dean?" He'd meant to sound exasperated, but some fondness accidentally slipped out.
"Those questions sound verbatim," Sam noted with a smile. It was a good look on him. "When did it stop?"
"Um…not until you left for Stanford," said Dean thoughtlessly.
This time, Sam winced. He probably thought that's what Dean had been thinking about in the first place, especially since the Ibeji had them both contemplating the nature of connection and separation. "Dean, you know the reason I left without saying goodbye to you? Cuz I couldn't do it. I couldn't say it. I knew if I tried, I'd never leave. I'm sorry. It was cowardly of me." Sam's voice dropped as fast as his smile had. "It's one of the biggest regrets of me life, and there's a lot to choose from." He looked slightly ill, and more than slightly guilty.
Just like that – BAM! – they were solidly in the middle of a chick-flick moment. Another one. It was like Sam's super power. He was lucky Dean was such an amazing big brother.
Dean cuffed Sam's shoulder. "Alright, don't feel all guilty, and don't scratch the wall, moron. That was a long time ago. And I should have showed up at Stanford, kicked your ass, and made you promise to call me at least once a week. I mean, when I finally came for your help, you dropped everything and came."
"I wish you had," Sam admitted. "And of course I came. When have I ever been able to say no to you?"
"Since you were about nine months old."
Sam leveled him with an unimpressed look.
"The whole…Stanford thing…" Dean surprised himself by continuing. It was much more of his MO to let topics like that drop like hot potatoes. "There was plenty of Winchester idiocy to go around. You gotta let it go. I have."
Sam's expression held way too many things in it for Dean to unpack all of them. He half braced himself for more emoting. But instead, Sam said, "Stubbornness, too. Don't forget stubbornness."
"And knee-jerk reactions."
"Hot tempers."
"Cussedness."
"Machismo."
"Ma -- what? Show off."
Sam grinned. "Where'd I learn to do that?"
Instead of answering, Dean stole one of the potato wedges still on Sam's plate and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth. But rather than complain, Sam turned the plate so Dean could reach the rest more easily.
Dammit. How did Sam get through his defenses so easily, and make Dean love him so freaking much? It was probably the fault of the Ibeji. On that note…
"Think it will piss off Blanche and Dorothy if we go in armed for bear, so to speak?"
Sam blinked. "I thought we were going to have a conversation about whether or not we should go at all."
"We could," Dean admitted. "You'd tell me why it's dangerous, and I'd offer to go alone, and you'd remind me that that wouldn't work. Then I'd say that we should figure out a way to trap 'em and force 'em to help us, and you'd point out that that would be really dangerous, especially at this place of congruence – "
"Confluence."
"That's what I said. And then I'd ask if you had any other ideas and you'd get this really constipated look on your face and finally say that you think we have to just do this quest –"
"Inquest."
"That's what I said. And then we'd have to talk about what to take along. So I figured I'd just skip all that middle part." Dean raised his eyebrows, daring Sam to disagree with anything he said.
Sam just put on the constipated slash thinking look that Dean had predicted, then smiled a little. "You're not worried?"
"Stupid question. Next!"
"Okay. Let's go, and I think we can bring whatever weapons that we want, but I doubt any of them will do any good. It may be a case where bringing weapons only increases the danger." Sam's fingers were tapping an irregular pattern against his leg, a sure sign his mind was working through the problem.
"Like the cave on Dagobah? You know – the only thing in there is what you take with you?" asked Dean, thinking of Luke Skywalker having to "face his own darkness" to become a Jedi.
Sam squinted at him. "Maybe? Honestly, I have no idea whatsoever they have in mind for us. I'll do some research, but in the end, we're probably going in pretty much blind."
"Great." Dean had figured as much, but hope springs eternal and all that shit. "You have some time to do some looking, but probably not as long as you think. These coordinates are the middle of the, uh, Francis Marion National Forest. No roads for miles. At least a two-hour hike." He'd looked it up while they were eating, and he wasn't happy about it. The location may have precluded the likelihood of witnesses, but it also meant they were limited in what they could carry and there would be no quick get away if things went sideways.
Sam folded his hands, then stretched his arms out in front of himself, palms out, so his fingers all cracked, and his back followed suit. "Does that mean we're not going to talk about the stuff Letty had to say?"
"About our sex appeal? Cuz she's right, about me, anyway. I'm sure she just included you so you wouldn't feel bad."
"No, Dean. About showing love through betrayal and a demonized soul and trading the whole world for each other. And about there being some big bad who hates us and is the reason for all the shit we've been through." Sam was implacable.
Dean didn't want to talk about any of it. He didn't want to think about any of it. He really just wanted to be able to stab something evil, hook up with a hot girl or throw back a beer with his little brother, and get a good night's sleep. Was that too much to ask? Yeah, apparently.
"Maybe a demonized soul is just one that's been to Hell. And we both did some…betrayals." Dean started talking faster, before Sam could start brooding again over demon blood and Lucifer and soulless jackassery. "And we risked the whole world and the Apocalypse when we decided we wouldn't play our parts in the Michael vs. Lucifer saga. And the big bad is Eshu, right? He's their opposite, so it makes sense that he hates all ibeji."
"We're not – "
"We are ibejis. Give it up. The grand poobah ibejis say we are, so we are."
Sam frowned at Dean. "I don't think you have all of that right. Kay said Letty was mixing up the past and the future."
"Yeah, well, we'll probably never know what the crazy old lady goddesses meant, unless you wanna ask them in between our inquisition and getting them to stop Achoo's little hissy fit. So you might as well get your geek on and figure out what we need to know for tonight. I'm gonna go see if I can score us some more holy water and either pick up beer or scope out a bar for us to celebrate our success later."
"Dean!" Even though he knew Sam was probably just going to complain, Dean stopped and waited for another potential chick flick moment, which was just too many for him to have to deal with in a month, much less one day. Maybe sensing his impatience, Sam said, "If I'm not here when you get back, I'll be at the library. It's just around the corner and two blocks over."
Dean nodded and let the door fall closed on Sam yelling, "And it's an inquest and Eshu!" Guess Sam had had his share of the emo crap too.
Thank goodness.
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AN: Blanche and Dorothy were characters from the classic sitcom Golden Girls. They were older women. The former was self-obsessed and the latter extremely sharp-tongued. (Dorothy had one of my favorite lines of all time. She was leaving and someone asked her where she was going. She responded: "To either get ice cream or commit a felony. I'll decide in the car.")
In case anybody doesn't know, Luke Skywalker and Yoda are characters from the Star Wars saga. The cave of Dagobah is from The Empire Strikes Back specifically.
The Francis Marion National Park is a real place, which I have sadly only seen in pictures. I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of naughty old lady deities within its borders.
Does anyone want to hear my take on Letty's visions, or is it pretty clear what events she's talking about? If anyone wants to hear it, I'll put it after the next chapter.
Shazza19: Thank you for telling me what scenes are easy to picture. I bet you have no idea how helpful that is! Yeah, the book looks amazing. Hmmm...I do have a birthday in a few months...and I'm not above buying myself something!
Lena: Absolutely right about the ladies. Except they just refused to stay put in their original characterizations and sort of became their own beings. lol Thank you for helping me button up all those errors. I got a little too excited! I've actually had a Barb story on the back burner forever (it has a title and basic plot and everything) but I keep getting distracted. Squirrel! I mean plot bunny! hehe
BruisedBloodBroke: Just a warning -- it's not a happy story. Abelard sounds like an arrogant @#$% and Heloise was pretty much screwed over by every man in her life! But it is interesting. And by the way, thanks for reading this story.
Scealai: Holy cannoli, wouldn't that be a combo of infinite snark and innuendo?!?! *brain explodes with possibilities*
printandpolish: They are SO fun to write! I kind of want to be them when I grow up.
Kathy: Just in case you're reading this, I have to tell you a story that your last comment on Broken Sanctuary reminded me of. I was once being put under for some procedure and the last thing I said before falling asleep was to correct the anesthesiologist's grammar! lolol