AN: It's been a minute since I've posted and I apologize. I will make it up to you by posting at least two chapters today.

If you need a recap, here goes:

Still struggling to be around a newly re-souled Sam, Bobby sends the Winchesters in a case. A witch, now dead, summoned Eshu, a god of discord, who set off some kind of spell that's turning people against each other. The only solution seems to get the help of the Ibeji, a pair of goddesses in the guise of feisty old women Letty and Kay. The latter claim that Sam and Dean are ibeji (small i), connected souls, and tell them to come to a place of convergence if they really want help.

Our boys have decided to go, despite Dean's worries about the trustworthiness of the deities and Sam's reservations that he and Dean aren't as connected as they think.

Rated K plus for language and innuendo. Responses to all comments at the end of the chapter.

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The hike through the old growth forest was one Sam would have normally enjoyed. Even when they were stalking some evil monster, he enjoyed places like this. It was quiet except for the noises of the night insects and the occasional small animal. Dean moved with his typical preternatural quiet, and even half distracted, Sam easily avoided leaves that could crackle or twigs that could snap underfoot.

The first hour or so, Dean had done his typical good-natured complaining. About the trees, the quiet, the stars they could sometimes see through breaks in the canopy, about crazy old ladies with a forest fetish, you name it. Sam had participated with half-hearted enthusiasm at best. He knew he wasn't playing his role of irritated little brother very well, but this whole case was grating on him. Kay and Letty and Dean were all wrong. He and Dean couldn't be ibeji, because they'd lived without each other plenty.

Or maybe they were failed ibeji. That was so much worse. How had Letty's stories of those ended up? Brutus killed himself. Medea killed everyone Jason cared about (including their mutual children). Peter Abelard ended up castrated, and Heloise committed suicide. What if Dean's connection to Sam killed him?

A rock settled in Sam's stomach. Dean's connection to Sam had already killed him. He'd gone to Hell for it. Then he'd given up a real home and family for it. Been turned into a vampire. And, yeah, bargained with Death to get Sam back.

Dammit. Sam wasn't worth that, but if they were ibeji, with all that meant, maybe Dean couldn't really help himself.

They'd been quiet for about half an hour now, even Dean never-say-die-Winchester conceding that conversation wasn't happening. Or maybe he was just being a good hunter as they got closer to their target. On cue, Dean gave the signal for Sam to take over the lead. As Dad had taught them, they'd faithfully switched taking the lead about every fifteen minutes to keep their eyes fresh.

As he seamlessly moved ahead of Dean, Sam was forcefully hit by the memory of the first time he'd ever been allowed to take the lead on a hike very much like this one, though that time they'd been tracking a pair of werewolves.

At fourteen, Sam was almost always relegated to the middle when they moved single file, since it was the safest place. Once in a while, he was allowed to watch the rear, but typically, Dean and Dad switched out. Sam never took the lead, though, not even after a hunt on the way back to the car.

But to Sam's astonishment, Dad gave the signal for Sam to move to the front and slid back to the rear spot, as if they'd done the maneuver a million times before. Dean didn't react to finding himself in the middle spot, which told Sam that Dean had known this was coming.

It was…heady. Thrilling. It should be scary, but Sam was practically glowing at the trust, the acknowledgement that he was becoming another partner instead of just a hanger-on. Sure, he wasn't the biggest fan of hunting, and he and Dad were starting to fight about it fairly regularly, but this was still where he wanted to be. If Dean and Dad were hunting, Sam wanted to be with them and not left in a cheap motel room like old luggage. He wanted to be able to watch their backs.

Sam didn't say a word, but walked as quietly and eagle-eyed as he could. And when his internal clock said about 15 minutes had passed, he gave the signal himself. Dean moved into the first spot, Sam slid to the back, and Dad took the middle, protected place without a sound or protest.

From then on, it was a 3-person rotation, and a 3-person schedule for keeping watch over night. Like so many milestones in the Winchesters' lives, it all happened without a word.

Sam had a lump on his throat from the memory. He wondered if it would have surprised Dean how much he missed Dad – still. Or how much he'd missed him while at Stanford, even when the anger still burned so brightly. Or how many tears he'd shed after Dad had died. It was something that Sam sensed would never be entirely gone.

Sam would have died to save Dad in a heartbeat. He'd been willing to let Azazel go rather than kill Dad. But…would he risk the entirety of humanity for Dad? He would for Dean. No question. Would his love for Dad have given him the power to overcome Lucifer? Because that's what had defeated the archangel – he'd shied away from the burn of love like it was fire to his ice. Was that what it meant to be ibeji?

And could Lucifer be the one who hated ibeji and twisted their bonds through history? In some ways it fit. He'd turned Adam and Eve against each other. His hatred of Michael was based in what he saw as his brother's betrayal. Sam knew from time sharing space with Lucifer that he and Michael had been every bit as close as he'd claimed. Was he the one who wanted to make sure that nobody got to experience a taste of what he'd lost?

But that didn't make sense either. He'd been in the Cage when most of those stories had happened.

Letty and Kay had spoken of Eshu without fear, more with frustration and maybe even a little bit of affection. But there had been real concern in Letty's voice about this "one." Kay hadn't let her say too much, as if it could be dangerous, and there was more than a little loathing in Kay's voice when she'd said the Winchesters might be the ones to kick his ass.

Not having enough information to figure anything else out, Sam turned his mind to the rest of what Letty had said. Go to Hell for each other was simple enough. Dean had done just that. Sam had tried – bargaining with every stupid demon he could find. And, yeah, Sam had jumped into the Pit to save the world…but mostly to make sure his moron of a brother would be safe.

Turn down Death though was puzzling him. Had Death offered Dean something he hadn't seen fit to mention to Sam? Or maybe it was referring to something that hadn't happened yet. He moved on and tried to remember Letty's exact words.

Whose love could survive without a soul? Sam wondered about that. He didn't remember his time without a soul, of course, but apparently, he'd hunted with Dean and, for the most part, had had his back. Why would he do that? More questions that he couldn't answer.

Kay had said they had a beautiful jimagua. Sam had looked that up. It literally translated to twins, but digging deeper, he found it really meant twin-ness. Some people called it symbiosis or synchronicity or even agape. Sam had told Dean about it, and his brother had shrugged. "Sounds like the adjective form of ibeji," he'd summed up perfectly. And Sam had wondered for the millionth time why Dean hid or decried his own intelligence.

Okay, next thing Kay had said. A soul that's been demonized. The more Sam thought about it, the more he thought this hadn't happened. They knew that demons were humans whose souls had been scoured of everything good by the tortures of Hell, but they also didn't have human forms of their own. Neither Sam nor Dean had gotten to that point. Did Letty mean that Sam was destined to end up as a demon? And that he would still, somehow love Dean? Sam couldn't help but hope that if he did end up as a demon that someone would destroy him quickly, before he hurt people. Before Dean saw him that way. Unless…the demon blood counted.

Sam couldn't allow himself to follow that train of thought. He wimped out and moved on. Show love through betrayal. Was that drinking the demon blood to get revenge on Lilith? (Shit. He wasn't going to think about that.) Dean making a deal to bring Sam back to life and lying about it? Or was there more well-intentioned betrayal in their future?

That was a lovely thought.

Sam could feel Dean studying him and cursed himself for distracting them both. You didn't face deities while distracted. Time to stop what Dean would call brooding. He'd called it that since Sam was 12 years old.

"You're brooding again, Sammy."

"It's not a bad thing. I'm just thinking things through. It's how I figure stuff out." Sam didn't move from his spot, cross-legged on the bed. He was contemplating a hunt that Dad was leaving on soon, and the facts didn't quite add up.

"Well, moping about it isn't gonna help. You need to distract yourself and just let the answer come to you. The way you do it, you're gonna bust a nut."

"That's the theory of me, you, and them," said Sam loftily. He'd been reading some books on psychology. H found the topic fascinating, but it wasn't exactly covered in 7th grade curiculum. "If you were doing it, you'd call it being thoughtful. Since it's me, you call it brooding or moping. If it were a stranger, you'd probably call it sulking." He thought about it for a minute. "And if it were Dad, you'd call it planning. It's not a bad thing just cuz it's not you doing it, so stop bugging me about it!"

Dean never had, which was somehow comforting.

Sam would pretend that Dean was bugging him about it now, and force his focus back to what they were doing. But one more thought popped into his head before he could. Kay had said he and Dean were out of sync. What if Sam's doubts and failures meant Dean didn't survive the inquest?

Damn. What ifs sucked like truck stop chili. Same kind of afterburn, too.

Sam made to wave Dean in front of him, but froze instead, knowing his brother would do the same thing in response. He sensed….something. Maybe it was residual shining or hunter's instinct or he'd subconsciously heard something. Without moving, Sam focused on what he could see and hear around him.

There. A sound, now louder and clearer, reached him. It was whistling, but not like a bird. Like a tune. Like…Moves Like Jagger? Bemused, Sam sent Dean a confused look. Then a voice he recognized rose to speak over the whistling.

"Well, c'mon boys, don't tease. And if you want to work it like a runway, we won't argue."

Sam rolled his eyes and could see Dean fighting a smile. It was Letty talking, which probably meant the whistler was Kay.

They walked toward the sounds together (not like they were on a runway) and came suddenly into a circular, well-lit clearing. The light didn't penetrate an inch into the surrounding forest, and had no visible source. And while the circle itself could be an important symbol, nothing else about the space appeared mystical. No Stonehenge stones, or open-air temple or anything.

Actually, Letty and Kay sat in comfy looking La-A-Boys with their feet up. Each had a libation in hand, and they were wearing…pajamas. Letty's nightshirt said Coffee. Wine. Sleep. Repeat. and her pants were fuzzy and green. Kay's shirt read: Am I Drunk? Yes No with boxes by the words yes and no and a red "x" that had missed both of the boxes. Her pants were also fuzzy, but yellow. Their slippers were pink and also fuzzy.

They looked like a pair of elderly sisters settling in for a Wheel of Fortune marathon.

Kay stopped whistling and grinned at the Winchesters. "Just as gorgeous as I remembered."

"Why here?" Dean complained. "Why not some nightclub where I can buy you a drink and tell you sweet lies?"

"We have no control where the confluence falls, I'm afraid," sighed Kay, as if put out by the whole thing.

"At least it's not a few miles that way, in Hell Hole Swamp," commented Letty, pointing a thumb over one shoulder. Then she grinned wickedly. "Is that shotgun for me?"

Dean caressed the gun invitingly. It was like flirtation was a reflex and he couldn't help himself. "Sorry, Letty. I'm just carrying this to protect you in case something nasty comes along, like a…uh…mountain lion."

"You and Sam may be dangerous, but you're hardly the most dangerous things in this clearing," said Kay. "But by all means, hold onto that if it makes you feel better." She'd said the words lightly, but both brothers tensed at the reminder that the two were far from defenseless little old ladies.

"Relax, tall, dark, and holy crap," soothed Letty. "You, too, sex-on-a-stick. In fact, why don't you sit down for a few minutes?" She waved a hand and two more chairs appeared.

"I think we'll stand," said Dean easily. He probably sounded relaxed to the rest of the world, but Sam could hear the underlying tension in his voice. "So, tell us about this price you mentioned before."

The women exchanged a glance that spoke volumes. Then Letty started to talk again. "We didn't set the rules. Ibeji have rarely found us to ask for help, and when they have…well, we looked to what other beings of power have done to test their own faithful. But most of them are gods of war or something else nasty and violent." She waved a hand and wrinkled her nose as if she'd smelled something bad.

"Although the whole gladiator thing has some perks," mused Kay. Life size copies of Sam and Dean suddenly appeared in the middle of the clearing. They were perfect replicas, right down to the scars, except they didn't move, even to breathe. And they were dressed as gladiators, if gladiators were also Chippendale dancers. They wore low boots with crisscrossing straps that ended just below their knees and the equivalent of metal loincloths. Their upper bodies were bare except for a few leather straps that held various weapons, and each held a gladius and a round shield that had a gold sheen to it. Sam's bore the imprint of a chimera, Dean's a griffin. And the men's bodies glistened as if they'd been oiled.

The woman sighed in unison and Sam wondered if it were possible to blush deeply enough to be actually visible from space.

"We could do something with cowboys…or pirates," offered Kay with a distant expression.

"Firefighters!"

"Body builders!"

Aside, but still clearly audible, Letty asked, "How can one family tree have so much sexiness?"

"I know," sighed Kay. "Have you seen what their father looked like?"

"Do you think this is funny?" snapped Dean, losing patience.

Kay's eyes narrowed, and irritation was sharp in her voice. "Not at all. Do you think we enjoy this?"

Letty laid a hand on her friend's arm, whether to soothe her or restrain her, Sam couldn't tell, but he thought it might be a combination of the two. "What Kay is saying that we tend to use humor to relieve tension. We love our ibeji. We love your jimagua. Forcing you to prove the strength of that bond and putting you through an inquest just so we can help? We hate it. We hate what Eshu has done."

"He's a child." Kay's words were clipped, and she sounded even more irritated than before, but she wasn't glaring at the men any longer. "He never thinks through the implications of what he does. He throws stones in the pond and walks away. And now you have to pay the price just so we can clean up his mess."

Sam could feel Dean gearing up to say something, but Letty beat him. "Please, sit," she asked sweetly. She hadn't taken her hand off Kay's arm, and her face was full of kindness, where her friend looked furious. "The inquest must begin now."

"Wait just – " Dean started, but Sam gave him a little nudge with his elbow and inclined his head toward the chairs. He knew it went against much of what Dad had taught them, and even against a lot of what they'd seen and experienced of the supernatural, but Sam trusted the two Ibeji. As much as he'd denied it, he couldn't help but feel a connection to them, and he believed them that they wanted to help. More than that, Kay seemed almost protective of the Winchesters, and Letty compassionate.

With a scowl, Dean muttered something incomprehensible and he and Sam sat in the empty chairs.

"What do we need to do?" asked Sam, perching awkwardly on the edge of the chair.

"Just ask." There was a thread of ineffable sadness in Kay's voice and it was scarier than her anger had been.

"I, Sam Winchester, request the help of the Yemoja and Oshun," said Sam quickly, determined that if there were a price to pay, he'd be the one to pay it.

"Sam!" Dean was pissed, obviously picking up on what Sam was trying to do.

"Both of you." Kay still sounded sad.

"I, Dean Winchester, request your help, Ibeji," said Dean immediately and Sam forced himself not to sigh. It had been worth a try.

There was a long pause, and a sense of otherness seemed to settle over the two deities. Although nothing about their benign appearance had changed, Sam felt the hair rising on the back of his neck.

"Help has been requested," intoned Letty, her voice inflectionless and echoing hollowly through the clearing. There was a formality to the words.

"The bond must be tested," said Kay in the same alien, echoing tone. "And the death price must be paid."

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sfaulkenberry: Oh, you are so nice! The Hell Hole comment is for you (which sounds mean when I say it like that...lol). I loved Dorothy on Golden Girls so much! I'm glad you like the conversation with Bobby. I know they couldn't cover everything on the show, but I bet it took a few before he could really trust Sam again. Anyway, thanks for your wonderful comment!

Blondie20000: I was just thinking about you the other day. It's funny because I thought about immertreu then they commented on a different story, and now here you are! Yes, I was thinking about demon Dean. And betrayal through love I thought about Dean letting Gadreel posses Sam, though Sam working to get rid of the Mark behind Dean's back works too. Anyhoo, so glad to see comments from you!

Timelady66: Love the idea of a "review so far." *g* Thank you for saying you feel the dialogue (inner and outer) is on target. I'm sure you know by now that I love Bobby, and I just wanted him to get a chance to verbalize his ultimate forgiveness of Sam, at least a little. Thanks for reading and giving such fabulous feedback!

Lena: I'm back! The girls really took on characters of there own here, I think. I don't know if I'll ever get to poor Barb's story, but at least she got two stories now! I think Watering the Flowers might be my favorite fanfic I've written. Anyhow, I love how specific you are. I've said it before, but it's so helpful! Take care and sorry Ohio State lost.

bagelcat1: Oh my, you're so kind! The old ladies are so much fun to write. I didn't think about the coffee shop being a tired trope, but I'm glad it worked anyway. I miss Bobby so much in later seasons! You are so so right about Sam getting back to his body after so long MIA. I can't imagine how weird it would be. I imagine him discovering weird stuff, like he's can now tolerate spicier food or accidentally learning he has a new skill. Oh no! Plot bunnies are running free! lol

BruisedBloodBroken: Thank you! Sorry if I ruined the Abelard story for you! Oops. I hope you keep enjoying the story.

Shazza19: Sounds like I really need to get the book! I'm glad you like Letty and Kay. Their naughty side just makes me laugh!

Kathy: Yeah! I'm glad you're reading! My mom was a big one for proper grammar, but I didn't appreciate it for a long time. I know make plenty of mistakes in grammar, but generally speaking it comes fairly easily to me because of all the years she corrected us. I'm so glad you said what you did about dialogue because I write a lot of it, and introspection, and always worry that it's too much. Grazi!

stedan: Hooray! A schmoop fan who also likes the little old ladies! Thanks for your feedback and for reading!

Kat: I should have known that you'd pick up on how the old ladies mirror the Winchesters (or vice versa, I suppose). And the whole dark side thing...it fits, doesn't it? I cannot wait to hear what you think a little farther down the line when everything has played out.