AN: My muse is going through an emo stage, apparently. I promise more action (read: violence) coming up soon for those of you who are looking for it. You know who you are. And after all, we can't let Eshu get away with it, can we?

* * *

Until Kay let them know where to find Eshu, Sam and Dean had no idea what direction to go, so they reserved another night at the motel and Sam made some vague noises about taking a walk. Letty's note was burning a hole in his pocket and he really didn't want to read it when Dean was right there.

There was a new weight on Sam's chest. Part of him thought he shouldn't be so affected by Kay and Letty's sacrifice. After all, he'd just met them, and they had made the decision entirely on their own, not even telling the Winchesters until it was too late to do anything to change it. And Letty would be back. Sam should feel gratitude (which he did) and a bit of sadness.

This was more than that. He felt unworthy of the deities' attention, much less the tremendous and expensive gift they'd given. And there was a pervasive sadness he couldn't shake. He'd related to the sweet, goofy Letty and her fond exasperation at Kay's protective nature.

Sam felt like he had after Madison had...died. Like the world was a colder place without her in it. Like getting to know her better would have been a blessing. And like she was dead because she'd had the misfortune to meet Sam Winchester.

The letter weighed 1,000 pounds in his pocket. Sam looked around. He'd ended up in Kay and Letty's -- no, just Kay's now -- back yard. Dean would kick my ass for paying so little attention to my surroundings, Sam thought. He leaned against the tree and could just about feel the Letty's presence. Knowing instinctively that Kay wouldn't mind, Sam sat and leaned against the pale bark.

His hands were steady as he pulled out the letter and smoothed it against his legs. No more delaying.

The handwriting was light and big and loopy and meandered across the page without much regard to the lines. It was, Sam thought, reminiscent of the Ideji herself. Stop stalling, he told himself. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the words.

Dear Sam,

I have some things to say that you won't believe, at least not immediately. But I ask, one kehinde to another, that you at least think about them.

Before we get into that, I want you to know that we do not regret meeting you. I am sad that Kay is hurting, but we don't resent you for it. You didn't set events into motion or make the rules of the inquest. Beyond that, Kay and I decided long ago that we would try to spread a little goodness around us. While it would be easy to just be content to be together, we choose to have another purpose, small as it is. And we would never fail to help our ibeji. That is our choice, not yours.

Now for the things you don't want to hear. I know that you feel unworthy of the regard and protection of Dean. That you feel being an ibeji is a blessing for you but a trap for him, forcing him to always put himself second, and chaining him unfairly to you, the lesser man.

Sam had to stop reading and lean his head back for a moment. It was like reading a grocery list of his greatest fears. He reminded himself that it was just a letter. Told himself to suck it up. He wiped his palms on his jeans and went back to it.

You feel guilty for the bond, for how much you need your brother, and for what you think it costs him. And you fear that some day Dean's love for you will cost him his life, permanently this time.

"Shit," Sam whispered. If Letty weren't dead and he didn't owe her so much, he'd have torn the letter up and happily stomped on the pieces. But she was right about everything so far, so Sam tamped down his emotions from seeing it all laid out and went back to reading.

If we'd had more time, we could have gotten into a philosophical discussion about the nature of love and worthiness if only to make Kay and Dean roll their eyes.

But instead, I'm going to ask you to think about one question: does Dean consider the bond, consider you a burden? Of course not. Dean can't imagine a life without you in it any more than you can imagine one without him. You are his purpose, his reason, his anchor. And I promise you that he believes it is his greatest privilege, the best part about everything he is, to be your big brother.

Sam closed his eyes and said every Latin curse word he knew. He almost hated Letty a little bit for claiming his greatest wish was true. She was wrong, of course, but damn her for saying it and kindling that hope within him. It would have been kinder to shoot him a few times or something. Seeing he had another entire page to read, he almost gave it up. But he was still a Winchester, which was synonymous with "stubborn cuss" according to Bobby. He could read the rest of the damn letter.

I know it's hard, even impossible for you to believe, Sam, and it's possible that you're calling me nasty names right now, but I hope you can trust me as someone who has spent countless years with the first taiwo. Those foolish creatures really believe that they are the lucky ones, and that is something you can never change. And you should also never doubt how much you give back. You are kind so he can be hard. You smooth his roughest edges. I could go on and on.

Now forgive an old woman for being wordy, but bear with me for one story and I'll leave you alone.

Many lifetimes ago I had a lover who was an expert swordsmith. No matter how good he got, he could never predict which swords would be good, and which few would be great -- beyond great, perfectly balanced, with an edge that wasn't too thin or too thick, and the strength to last for generations.

He used to say that there were three parts of making the perfect sword. First, you had to have the right materials, high quality and in the right amounts. Second, you had to use the right process and have the skills to execute it. And third, you had to have uchawi, a mystical something that no one could truly predict or explain.

What I'm getting at here is that you think you and Dean are idejis because something was done to you. I understand. A great deal of your lives has been manipulated by others, supposed destinies decided and out of your hands, so it makes sense for you to think this is too. But it's not.

Ibejis are not born. They are made. You two had all of the ingredients: two brothers who are strong and capable of great love. You also had the circumstances, and damn if your crucible wasn't hot. But there was one more piece that brought it all together. You two chose each other over and over in every way that mattered until finally there was something new. A bond both great and mysterious that rarely ever occurs.

No matter what you do, Dean will always choose you, maybe even in ways you don't like.

Whatever happens, no matter what he does, even before you can admit that you forgive him, make sure he knows that you still choose him.

Don't give up on yourself. More importantly, don't give up on Dean.

I have no doubt that you two will defeat Eshu and everyone else who gets in your way. I hope with all I am it doesn't take to great a toll on you.

Be well.

Oshun

aka Letty

aka the sexy one

Sam laughed so he wouldn't cry. Letty might be some deity or manifestation, but what did she know about him? About what Dean had gone through because of Sam?

Wanting to shake off the words and wishing he had the luxury of getting blind drunk, Sam stood and pushed off the tree. For a split second, he could almost feel Letty's presence, as faint and evocative as a whiff of a long-forgotten perfume.

She would be amused at his disorientation, Sam thought irreverently, even though he knew she'd actually be sympathetic. He made it all of four half blind steps before there was a hand steering him.

"This way, buddy," said a familiar voice. The familiar voice. Suddenly, Sam didn't care if Dean was there because Kay had called him or if he'd followed Sam or if he'd been forced into his role by a demon and a fire and cruel fate or if Dean really wanted to be there, at Sam's side. At least for now, it was enough that he was.

"Geez, what did she say?" asked Dean, but his tone was too soft to really come across as caustic.

"A lot of philosophical bullshit," Sam answered. He had unintentionally crumpled the letter in his hand. "It doesn't matter. Crazy old lady." He refocused and tucked all his doubts and fears in a box in the back of his brain labeled Shit I Don't Want to Think About. It was getting pretty full and wouldn't hold forever, but that's what alcohol was for. "Kay send you directions yet?"

"Yup. More details on how to gank the dick, too." Dean had let go of Sam's arm but was walking close enough that their shoulders occasionally bumped. He really couldn't help himself. Sam could brood about that, or he could appreciate it.

"Oh, thank goodness," said Sam vehemently enough that Dean quirked a questioning eyebrow. "You haven't stabbed anything in a good week. and you tend to get testy."

"Testy?" asked Dean in a dangerous voice.

"Whiny? Bitchy?" asked Sam, ducking under the smacking hand with a chuckle that helped dispel some of his melancholy. "See? Crabby."

Dean chased him back to the motel.

* * *

AN: Uchawi is the Swahili word for magic (taken from Google translate). Don't know why Letty's smith was Swahili, he just was.

bagelcat1: Never too much of you! You're making me think. Maybe I should figure out what Sam was whispering and include it in a later chapter...hmmm... Sorry/you're welcome for being so hard on the boys! lol I love that you caught the nod to 15.19. You catch a lot of those things! And thank you for the encouragement.

printandpolish: I try to always add laughter after tears. (And yes, writing that made me tear up! I love Letty!)

Timelady66: I know! Poor old ladies. And Eshu will get what's coming to him. *g*

muffinroo: I seem to say this to you a lot, but I agree with you, this time about the finale! BTW, if you sent me a story idea, I didn't get it. :-( If you want to send it directly to me, my email address is imawoomie at yahoo dot com.

Kathy: I know...the poor boys! I can't wait to hear what you think about how it all worked out.

sfaulkenberry: More lull, but I drastically increased the amount of time spent on the fight with Eshu just for you. Consider it my apology for the tears! hehe And as always, I adore your comments.

stedan: You are exactly right about what I had in mind with the predictions. Thank you so much for reading and making such kind comments!