AN: I know I'm late getting this out but I was distracted by all of the basketball that was on! It's not very long, either, but it is a necessary transition. The next two chapters are planned and partially written, so hopefully will be out very quickly.
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Sam leaned painfully against the small cliff and divided his attention between his brother, the dying fire, and the fascinating runes on the rock. He'd tried to take pictures of the last, but, like many mystical symbols, they couldn't be photographed. So once Eshu was merrily burning, he'd copied them into the back of Dad's journal.
They'd kicked Eshu's head a little ways away and burned him where he fell, taking advantage of the lee of the cliff to mostly shield them from the wind.
He was taking a long time to burn. But even exhausted and beat up, neither brother suggested leaving before he was completely ash.
They'd used the time to check each other over. They had matching and spectacular bruising on their stomachs and faces. In addition, Dean's back was a Rorschach of purples and Sam's legs were just as bad from being tossed onto the rocky ground. Dean had a hand-shaped bruise wrapped around his left wrist and Sam's right wrist was stiff and swollen. But for once, nothing was actually broken.
"We look," Sam had told Dean, "like we've been beating the shit out of each other."
Dean hadn't argued. In fact, he'd been pretty quiet, even quiescent to Sam checking his injuries...after he'd checked Sam's.
Sam was pretty sure he knew why. He'd heard a little of what Eshu had said to his brother.
And the look on Dean's face...damn.
The revelation of Dean's doubts.. wasn't really a revelation. Ever since they'd come back together after Stanford, both adults, Dean had been gradually coming down from the untouchable heroic icon of Sam's childhood. But he hadn't been toppled. No, it was like he'd stepped down gradually, letting Sam see the sometimes vulnerable man behind the perfect marble facade.
And that man was even more impressive than the fictional version seen through the eyes of a child. This Dean was so very human with fears and pain and blood that could spill and he still chose to stand between Sam and all of the scary shit in the world. He chose to fight evil and save as many people as he could.
He'd walked right into Hell and he'd survived it. Only Dean's example had given Sam the courage to do the same. Ruby had briefly convinced Sam that Dean was weak, broken. But the truth was so much greater than that. Dean had broken, then he'd put himself back together. And the scars left behind only bore testament to the strength of the man.
So, yeah, Sam was in awe. Even before Dean had put him back together. Cuz Heaven and Hell and Death himself couldn't stop Dean Winchester.
For Dean to doubt himself. To hate himself. Well, that hurt. By letting Sam see behind the curtain to the man he was underneath the tough guy exterior and megawatt smile, Dean gave him the greatest honor he could possibly imagine.
Maybe there was something Sam could give him back.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" demanded Dean suspiciously. He narrowed his eyes, but at least he lost the look of self loathing he'd been wearing.
"Thanks for letting me take his head, since you got to stab him twice," answered Sam, nodding at the smoldering piles.
"Letting you...?" Dean was frowning now. "I couldn't..."
"You drew his attention. If he'd focused on me, think what damage he could have done." Sam knew Dean hadn't thought about what could have happened to Sam's wall if Eshu had taken a crack at it based on the way Dean paled at the comment. No, he'd been the one closest to the deity because that was just what he did.
Tread lightly, Sam reminded himself. Throwing Dean's fears in his face would be a poor way to repay him for letting Sam see his pain.
"I, um, I thought you might like to, uh," Sam nearly chickened out as Dean's focus tightened on him. But he owed Dean this. And who was it safer for Sam to be vulnerable with? In his own unique way, Dean guarded Sam's mental wellbeing as fiercely as he guarded his physical safety. "ReadtheletterfromLetty," finished Sam quickly, before he could change his mind.
Sam pulled the crumpled pages from his pocket and held them out to Dean, pleased that his hand barely shook. Whoever said that baring your soul is the scariest thing a human being can do wasn't kidding.
The thought brought unexpected peace. Sam's soul? Dean already owned it. He'd literally ransomed it from Hell. It would be safe with him.
More confident than before, Sam held the pages farther out, hissing a little from the pain on his torso. "Just, uh, don't read it when I'm around, okay?"
Dean took it, carefully smoothed and folded the pages, and tucked them away almost reverently.
His eyes spoke volumes. But he was still Dean, so what he said was, "will you sit down already? You're making me hurt just looking at you."
"Looking at you always hurts," snarked Sam, mostly to reassure his brother that no dreaded chick flick moment was forthcoming. The reality was it would take more energy to get back up than he wanted to expend.
He thought just going back around the cliff face and up the hill to the car was going to be a challenge. For Dean too, undoubtably.
Sam was right, but finally they were on their way. They both needed comfortable beds and plenty of rest, maybe some nice painkillers. Instead, they headed straight for Bobby's. They switched back and forth for driving. The passenger loaded up on enough Tylenol to take the edge off and enough whiskey to help him sleep, then basically swaddled himself in ice packs.
Stops were even worse than trying to get comfortable in the Impala. Uncoiling and straightening muscles that had frozen up was misery.
There were two stops, however, that Sam truly enjoyed. First, was a stop at a construction site where they dumped the ashes from Eshu's head into a port-a-potty. They'd thrown the ashes from his body into the wind, but it was far too satisfying to find such a fitting resting place for the rest of him.
The second stop Sam enjoyed was at a tiny gas station in the middle of nowhere. The attendant looked, and was dressed like, an 80-year-old farmer. He eyed Sam and Dean curiously as they made their creaky way around the little store, stocking up on ice and snacks. His eyes lingered on their matching black eyes.
"Whaddya boys git into?" he asked.
"We're bare-knuckle boxers," lied Dean easily. "We normally fight together, but at our last stop, they offered us double to fight each other."
Sam covered a smile at his brother's quick dissembling. Only Dean.
"Who won?" persisted the old timer, ringing up their purchases.
"Who do you think?" asked Dean with a smirk.
The man looked them over again and tilted his chin toward Sam. "The big 'un," he decided, ignoring Dean's sputtering to point to Sam's swollen wrist. "Boxer don't hurt a wrist like that unless they hit someone but hard."
Sam couldn't stop his grin, even though it hurt his face. In fact, he had hurt his wrist hitting someone "but hard," it just happened it was Eshu. The old guy nodded at the sight, as if it confirmed his guess. Sore as he was, Sam was amused. And he was even more amused to find the guy had thrown some tiger balm into their bag, no charge.
They'd been on the road for more than 18 hours and Sam was behind the wheel when Dean stirred and looked around. "We just south o' Sioux Falls?" he asked in a sleep-roughened voice. Sam nodded, no longer surprised at Dean's ability to navigate pretty much anywhere. "Why y' goin' so slow?"
Sam bit his lip and shrugged. He hadn't realized how much he'd slowed. As much as he was desperate for a bed, there was a cold tingle of fear in Sam's stomach. What if Bobby really didn't forgive him? What if he never could?
"Sam, stop it," said Dean, surprisingly awake considering he'd been snoring five minutes before. "Don't assume a problem. What did PJ used to say?"
Sam smiled a little. He didn't think about Pastor Jim much any more, but the man had played a seminal role in their childhood. "Sufficient unto each day is the trouble thereof," quoted Sam.
"Yeah, yeah. That," said Dean, as if he didn't know the quote as well as Sam did. His persistence at pretending to be unintelligent amused Sam.
"I know, Dean. Don't borrow trouble."
"Besides, if Bobby gives you any shit, I'll hide all his Kenny Rogers cassettes and stick his boxers in the freezer."
This time Sam's smile was more genuine. "He'd kill you."
Dean only smirked. "He'd have to catch me."
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AN: The quote from Pastor Jim is from the Bible, Matthew 6:34.
Jenjoremy: I love both schmoop and badass Winchesters, so I'm always happy when I can combine the two! I'm so glad that you like my characterizations. I hope you aren't too stressed facing the state testing. I absolutely hate the stress it puts on teachers and students. Good luck with all of it and hopefully this provides a little bit of a a diversion for you.
Timelady66: I'm glad that you decided that earplugs weren't cheating. :-) I didn't want the typical encounter, not exactly. And holy plot bunnies...that's a whole farm full! It makes me smile how we're often on the same page. And I'm super curious about what you think of how I'm including the letter...more on it in the next chapter.
Kathy: I adore Kay and Letty and it just makes me happy that you like them. They will come up again, promise. More than I intended, actually, because my readers have so many fabulous ideas.
Scealai: Go, Winchesters! Whoop whoop!
Blondie: Glad you like the action! Thanks for commenting!
muffinroo: The letter is coming! The Friends reference cracked me up. This story is pretty heavy on the schmoop, but I seem to remember you like that, am I right?
stedan: I wanted Sam to give Dean the letter and I promise they'll get a bro moment over it. At least a moment! I'm so glad you like the schmoop because there's plenty more to come.
Kat: Action scenes are fun but hard to write, so I'm very pleased that they work for you. I feel like Eshu didn't really understand humans and that was why he did a lousy job of imitating one. Sam gave the letter to Dean, so you can bet that it will come up soon! Your comment has me thinking about a lot of things, and will certainly inform the later chapters.
sfaulkenberry: How much do I love you for recognizing the nod to The Odyssey?! You are not allowed to give me such a fabulous word picture with the boys on Harleys! Argh! Don't you know I can't help myself around plot bunnies? And you know I love giving both boys badass moments.