AN: This was supposed to start at breakfast and be all from Dean's POV, but Sam gave me puppy dog eyes and begged for little more introspection. When I recovered from melting into a squishy puddle of goo, I agreed because of course I did. Besides, Dean has imposed his will on plenty of my stories (ahem, Hungry House), so I figured it was Sam's turn.
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Sam didn't climb out of bed until nearly 10 am, snickering a little at the sight of Dean sprawled on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow. He'd finally moved to his own bed some time in the wee hours of the morning...and possibly hadn't moved since.
It was nice to see him resting. Dean rarely truly let his guard down, and Sam had a feeling it never happened when he was hunting with the ultimate psychopath -- someone who was literally soulless.
Distracted, Sam banged his knee on his bed and Dean didn't even move. The import of that suddenly hit Sam so hard he literally froze. His lungs seized and his heart seemed to stutter. Dean was the greatest hunter Sam had ever seen or heard of. The only reason Dean would ever sleep deeply was if he knew he was completely safe.
If he knew Sam was there.
The same part of Dean's subconscious that registered the noises from Sam moving around the room recognized who was making the noises. And it dismissed them without bothering to wake up. No, it registered Sam's presence as a reason to sleep harder. How did Sam know this? Because it was true for him, too. Nightmares notwithstanding, Sam never slept as deeply as when Dean was there too, not even at Stanford after years without hunting and with the woman he loved sleeping at his side.
Maybe that's what the whole ibeji thing was about. No matter what, better together than apart.
What hadn't they done to stay together and protect each other? Sold their souls (sometimes literally), bargained with Death, threatened angels and took on the devil, just for a start.
Sam sat on the edge of his bed and stared at his drooling brother. The brother he'd watched fight over and over for the right to die for Sam. What had it been like for him to be saddled with a Sam who wasn't Sam, who walked and talked and looked like Sam but didn't give two shits about Dean?
No wonder Dean was relieved. No wonder he could finally sleep. And in his own inimitable way, Dean simply put aside the time when Sam would have stabbed him in the back for $50 and went right back to trusting Sam to watch his back.
Sam's breath caught in his throat and hitched unsteadily. And wouldn't you know it -- that is what made Dean finally stir. One tiny sound of Sam in distress. Sam quickly composed himself and started pulling clothes from his bag.
Dean barely opened his eyes. Seeing Sam was fine, he gave a dirty look that was more pout than glare. "Coffee?" he asked petulantly, clearly not pleased that Sam had woken him.
Sam laughed and it came out just a tiny bit desperate. Dean lifted his head and opened his eyes wider. "Nightmare?" he asked a little clearer.
Sam shrugged, knowing Dean would take it as a yes. "Go back to sleep. I'm gonna shower, then I'll go get coffee and breakfast." He hurried into the bathroom, closing the door before Dean could argue.
But when Sam came back out, Dean had a different plan in mind.
"I'm not eatin' in the room. I need a five minute shower then we'll go find food. And coffee."
"But I --"
This time it was Dean's turn to close the door to end the discussion. His voice rose just before the water turned on. "Don't leave the room, Sam!"
Well, that was unambiguous, but Sam wasn't a little brother for nothing. He relished the look on Dean's face when he came out of the bathroom to see Sam smugly sipping coffee.
"What the -- I told you -- "
"I called the desk and offered the kid ten bucks to get us coffees from next door." Sam took a drink just because he could. "I never left."
"You -- "
Sam held up Dean's extra hot venti dark roast and took his life in his hands by interrupting his brother again. "Coffee, Dean. It's been days since we had any." It was technically true.
Dean glared but took the brew because he was as helpless to refuse caffeine as Sam was.
When their drinks were gone and Dean's diatribe about annoying little brothers had petered out, the boys set out to find breakfast. The entirety of downtown Della's Hollow was contained in maybe six blocks, so they walked.
Breakfast was good. Watching Dean flirt with the waitress to score extra bacon, listening to him wax poetic about said waitress and said bacon, and basically be just Dean was even better.
Sam put aside heavy thoughts and the lingering trauma of wondering what he'd done in the last how many months, not to mention the technicolor depictions of the two of them dying over and over, complete with feeling some of the physical pain.
Nope. Right now, it was all about a quiet, normal moment when they were safe and together.
WINCHESTER * WINCHESTER
Sam had smiled at nothing no fewer than three times during breakfast. He'd also had moments where his countenance would darken before he visibly put it aside and smiled goofily again.
Freaking Pollyanna. Walking chick flick moment. Dean mentally rolled his eyes about 20 times...and loved every second of it.
Every flicker of emotion in Sam's eyes bore with it twin reminders. First, that the soulless dick with eyes as flat and uncaring as the ocean was gone, with Sam, Sammy back in his place. Second, the hazel eyes he'd watched glaze with pain and dull in death repeatedly in that damn clearing were just an illusion. The real thing was alive and breathing and eating pancakes and occasionally grinning like an idiot.
Dean understood the sentiment.
As the left, he relished their effortless synchronicity in a way he'd never admit out loud.
When Sam's stride hitched minutely, Dean was instantly aware of it. Sam nudged his shoulder and inclined his head to the side, pointing out a familiar figure across the street.
It was Kay, talking to a middle aged couple. Where she'd stood almost militarily straight before, now she was hunched over, even leaning on a cane. Even white-haired and wrinkled, she'd seemed indomitable. Now...
"She looks terrible," muttered Sam under his breath.
Dean didn't care. He had some words for the Ibejis. As if hearing his determination, Kay raised her head and caught Dean's eyes. She said something to her companions and accepted a hug from the woman before they walked away.
Just a few storefronts down, the boulevard widened to surround a small green space with a hexagonal gazebo in the center. Kay pointed to the gazebo and started slowly toward it.
Sam and Dean headed there in unspoken accord. Kay finally got there too and settled carefully on one of the benches that lined each side of the structure.
"Kay, what the hell -- " Dean started, barely waiting for her to get seated.
Sam touched his sleeve, then when Dean did nothing but glower at Kay, pulled him down to sit on an adjacent bench. "Kay, where is Letty?" asked Sam in that kind, soft voice that he did so well and that really should've made him sound like a pansy, but didn't.
"I'll tell you the story, then answer whatever questions you have," promised the woman. Even her voice sounded different. She sighed wearily. "You know that we have no say in what the inquest requires. The bond must be tested. Letty did that, but the reason you didn't completely feel all of pain was because she took it on herself. The physical pain you felt was just an echo. She felt it all -- physical pain and the pain of separation."
"She didn't have to do that." Sam looked slightly ill. Like Dean felt. His anger was fading fast imagining what Letty had experienced, and what Kay had gone through knowing the torment her sister / friend / other half was in.
"No," answered Kay with the ghost of a smile on her lips, then gone. "Compassion and Letty are synonymous, but it's not required by the rules." The fondness bled from her voice as she spoke until she all but spat the last word.
"Whose rules?" Sam wanted to know, but Kay shook her head.
"I cannot tell you. But know we did everything we could to spare you." Kay tapped her cane absently on the ground. "Almost everything. I am sorry I did not help you after all was done. I had to care for Letty. Even knowing what was going to happen, I was unprepared. I was distraught."
A cold snake uncoiled inside Dean's belly. He thought he might puke if he opened his mouth. Next to him, Sam said, barely above a whisper, "Kay, did...?"
"The inquest is not finished until the bond breaks...or an ibeji is dead," said Kay quietly.
Dean spat curses before he knew what he was doing. He felt Sam's hand on his back and as angry as he was at the damn rules and whoever was behind them, he was so freaking grateful for the crazy old lady deities for finding a loophole. For making sure Sam and Dean were both there.
"Kay...how can we thank..." Sam started, a little brokenly.
"We told you that we love our ibeji," the deity answered. She looked up and the pain in her eyes choked Dean. He suddenly knew who'd made the sound right before the simulations had ended. But there was acceptance on Kay's face too, under incredible weariness. "Letty can come back, boys. I burned her with efirin and buried her beneath a white mahogany. That will help her find her way faster. Then, she'll go to a woman who wants to become a mother and become her child." The words were spoken with immense tenderness. As a parent and sibling and friend all rolled into one.
And Dean Winchester shed a tear. For the sacrifice and the gift of Sam still at his side. And somehow he knew that Kay not only didn't hate them, she considered Dean's tear a fitting tribute for Letty.
They all mourned in silence for a moment.
"Uh, you...what will you do?" asked Sam gently.
"I won't linger long," admitted Kay, obviously not slightest bit sad about that fact. "Together, well, if we'd both taken on the pain, we'd have lasted far longer than you would have. Alone? I'll be gone in perhaps a few months."
"But will you be able to...find your way back, too?" persisted Sam with a kind doggedness.
Kay rolled her eyes, finally looking a bit like the incorrigible woman they'd met in the coffee shop. "If those idiots at the funeral home actually follow my wishes, I won't wander long. Then, eventually Letty and I will grow up enough to seek each other out. Before you know it, we'll be calling each other biddy and hag again."
"Well, shit," burst out Dean before he could edit himself. Kay and Letty would be apart for at least years, probably decades.
"Dean," snapped Kay suddenly, still a shadow of her earlier, feisty self. "Just ask what you want to ask already."
"She called you Taiwo, and Sammy tells me that means elder or protector. So, how could you let her do it?"
"Dean!" hissed Sam, shocked.
Kay waved down his concern. "She wanted to -- no, she needed to help you. And, Dean, as much as she suffered, staying is so much harder than leaving."
Dammit. He felt choked again. Surprisingly, it was Kay who dug him out.
"Besides, she would do this," Kay tipped her mouth down in an exaggerated frown, wrinkled her brow, and made her eyes big. "Just like an old Bassett Hound, and I never could say no to that face."
Sam and Dean both chuckled sadly at then.
"I need to go h-home now," said Kay, her voice nearly breaking on the word home. She didn't complain when each of them took an arm and helped her shuffle the few blocks to a little yellow house with a stately white mahogany tree in the back.
Once there, she pulled an envelope out of her suitcase sized purse and handed it to Sam. "Letty left this for you," she told him. To Dean she said, "I'll text you where Eshu is trapped. You just need to stab him with pure iron and it will be hundreds, maybe a thousand years before he finds himself again. After all, he has no one to anchor him."
She peered up at them, still holding one arm of each of them. Dean wanted to thank her, find some words, no matter how inadequate, to tell her...
"The first thing I'm going to tell Letty is that we had a menage-a-trois!" announced Kay. And she stepped inside and closed the door in their surprised faces, cackling.
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AN: Man, I do love Letty and Kay! This chapter was sad to write...though Kay insisted on getting the last word.
Scealai: Now you've got me singing!
Sam's introspection and memories of Hades
Whumpage and schmoopage and horny old ladies
Shirtless Winchesters and the drooling that brings
These are a few of my favorite things...
Timelady66: Okay, I'll add a Bobby and Sam interaction! I'm adjusting the last couple chapters. :-) I'm glad you like the story...and I appreciate your helpful insightful comments.
printandpolish: I believe it! Those tall boys can shoot up like freaking weeds!
sfaulkenberry: Yay! I love them too. And I love those same kinds of scenarios, I fully admit it. More action is coming, promise. I'm at the point where I'm pretty good at predicting what you'll like now...of course it's what I like too. *g*
Jenjoremy: I'm so happy to see your name here! Thank you for reading and commenting.
muffinroo: I am so sorry to hear that you've been under the weather! I really hope that you're feeling better. Hugs to you!
Lena: I hope this chapter didn't make you too sad. Have I told you that you make me a better writer with your comments? Cuz you do. And you make me smile. :-) Let's see what movie could they have been watching? How about The Longest Day? hehe
bagelcat1: You are just so kind. Do you have any idea how nice it is to read your comments? To me, John is a very multifaceted character, so I do like highlighting some of the lesser emphasized of his traits. And I think Dean's intelligence is very underrated. I'm glad you agree. And I think I might faint if I ever saw any of the actors in person!
Kathy: I admit, I personally speak fluent sarcasm, which may be why Dean's sarcasm comes across well! Thank you SO much for such helpful and specific comments! I am thrilled that you find the dialogue to advance the story, and that you like the layers too. Gracias.
Guest: Writing is my outlet, something that helps keep me sane. I'm grateful that some people enjoy reading it!