Fields Of Jasmine

Chapter 36 ~ I've Got The Plot, You've got the reviews!


I am dearly sorry for not updating sooner. Even more sorry, that THIS I BETA'D at all so far.

though I hope it'll be soon.


Sam was pacing the living-room, his flat palm resting above his heart, his breaths came out in small puffs.

Dean was sitting on the couch, watching Sam stride back and forth, eyes frantic and unfocused and his hands shaking. Of course he had tried to get his mate to calm down – or at least to sit. He had wanted him to have a glass of water and he had begged him to talk to him.

To tell him what he had been dreaming. What he had been seeing.

But Sam only told him that he didn't know what it was and what was going on.

The omega made – yet again – an u-turn as he reached the door towards the kitchen. Sam seemed even more agitated than an hour before.

"Sammy.", Dean broke the silence yet again and sighed. "Please."

The omega stopped in his tracks, his forehead creased in deep lines. He gave his alpha a pleading look. "I can't.", Sam breathed and he pinched the bridge of his nose in distress. "I ... I should be somewhere else right now ..."

They had been already that far. "Where, Sam? Where do you need to be?"

Sam's gaze morphed into something more ... emotionally pained. "I don't know ... I ... I really don't. I ... I don't know what's wrong with me ... I-"

The ex hunter got up from the couch with a wince. He didn't need to say that he was hurting, Sam could tell anyway. His leg was making troubles again. Even though Dean took one of his pills right after he'd gotten up with Sam.

Dean sountered around the couch and the coffee table and was in front of Sam a second later. He put his hands on the taller man's shoulders as he caught his gaze.

Sam's pupils were blown. His muscles taut under Dean's calloused hands.

They stared each other in the eyes for a long minute and then Dean wrapped Sam up in his arms and held him – tight. So tight, as if Dean wanted to fuse his mate's body with his.

"It's okay, baby.", Dean whispered into Sam's ear with an heavy sigh. He had first hoped, that it had been about a nightmare. That when Sam first gasped awake, making a pitiful noise, that it had been some night terror.

But after the first hour had passed and Sam hadn't calmed down, Dean figured that this wasn't just because of a nightmare. He figured that this had to be more than just that.

"I don't know what's goin' on. I really don't. It's like I have to be somewhere ... but I don't know where. Like ... like ... I don't know. And it hurts. - Not physically, you know? But ... it's just there ..." Sam murmured into his mate's neck.

"Shush.", Dean breathed into his ear. It tore on his insides not to know how to ease Sam's discomfort, how to make it go away. The feeling of being helpless formed a dark giant pit in the depths of his stomach.

He had no clue what to say to Sam. He had no words – no words at all.

Sam blew out a shuddering breath and let his eyes slide closed.

"Why don' you lie down a bit, Sammy, huh?" Dean trailed with his palm down Sam's back and his hand came to a rest at the small of his back. Instantly, he felt the younger man's agitation grow again. "Just on the couch. You don't need to sleep though. Just lay down ... I'll stay with you."

Sam trembled. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat.

"What do I do?", he asked his alpha desperately. "What do I do?"

"Come and lie down with me.", Dean spoke calmly into his mate's ear. "Just for a couple of minutes. - You gotta be exhausted. And tired." He himself was too. There was no use to denie that. But he couldn't probably tell that Sam ... "As long as we don't know what it is ... what ... THIS means ... - There's no use to pace the living-room until the panels are due."

Sam buried his face deeper into his mate's shoulder and his long fingers wrapped into Dean's shirt. "'kay.", he murmured.

"Good." Dean breathed a sigh of relieve. "C'mon." He still believed, that – as soon as he'd get Sam to lie down – that his younger mate would eventually fall asleep again.

They made their way around the couch.

Dean sat down at the farthest end to the left of the couch and patted his knee. "C'mon. Get your scrawny ass over here."

"My ass ain't scrawny.", the omega mumbled as he slumped down beside his mate.

Dean chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows. "Nah ... you're right. He's perky and juicy and all kinds of sexy." There was a hint of smugness (if that word even existed, Sam mused) in his forest-green orbs.

Sam let his head sink into the ex hunter's lap. "Nuhu. Your butt is perkier ... and real nice ..."

For a moment it looked like Sam'd relax into their banter. But his hopes were destroyed as soon as he watched Sam curl up into a tight ball, his knees pulled up to his chin.

"I can tell yours is nicer, babe.", Dean murmured as he traced with his fingertips along Sam's cheekbone.

The younger man releaved a shuddering breath. His fingers searched the collar of his shirt. "It's all good.", Dean whispered "It's all good. Try to relax a little bit, baby." He brushed over Sam's hair, his forehead. Dean kept his voice soft and calm, hoping htat he'd lull Sam to sleep.

It lasted a bit over ten minutes.

Sam was about to doze off, his eyelids getting heavier with every passing second. Even when he faught it.

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

Obsidian crawled over the ice-gray color of the young man's circles and infiltrated the white until it was completely gone.

He adjusted the quiver's holder, which was slung over his shoulder. His lips twitched and his black eyes glistened in the soft light of candles as he walked into the room. The boy – since he couldn't be any older than eighteen – tightened his hold around the crystalline jar in his left hand as he narrowed the fire-place before which a white-haired man sat in a huge recliner.

The man didn't turn around, even if he was supposed to hear the approaching young man. No. His yellow-eyes reflected the red and orange of the open fire and shone gleefully.

"You have it.", Azazel stated. It wasn't a question. Because he knew. He could smell it. Hear it in the way the demon was approaching him. All eager and proud and self-conscious about what he had managed.

About proofing himself.

Showing his boss that he was useful and good and that he was worth to be kept. And maybe even, that he was worth to replace Yellow-eye's daughter.

"I do, Sir.", the boy spoke, and even if he tried to hide his shit-eating grin, he couldn't.

This was too good to be true.

He, a no-name, low-rank demon had managed to bring down one of hell's most feared creatures. One of Orthos's children.

"It's dead?" Azazel blinked once and pursed his lips.

The demon didn't hesitate with his answer. Because he was so damn sure that he was right. "Yes, it's dead."

There was a long moment of silence.

"You saw it die?", Yellow-eyes asked curiously.

"I poisoned the arrows with dead-man's blood and belladonna. It bled out before it could heal itself.", the boy answered calmly. Though, everyone could see tension crawling up his spine which made him straighten up slightly.

The lack of approvement of his master seemed to distress him.

"Fine.", Azazel grumbled – obviously a bit disappointed. "Where's it's blood?"

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

It was then – when he had barely dozed off again.

His eyes flew open.

Cold rain was trashing down on him from the skies above. The thick curtain of water made it barely able to let him see where he was.

He only knew it was dark. Night. Raining.

Or was it a dream?

A blink later, he found himself running. Though, his hight and definitely the way his body seemed to be formed didn't fit. He was too close to the ground – and somehow ... all this seemed to happen too fast.

He was running too fast for his physical abilities.

It had to be a dream. Right?

Something hissed past his ear and got caught in a tree mere inches aside of him. He felt wind brushing past him. Underwood getting caught in his long black fur.

And then there was another hiss and a sharp pain in his chest. He felt himself stumble and fall and and slip down a slope.

Just when a hooded man appeared above him, he felt a sharp pain stabbing through his skull and everything went black.

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

Dean was above his mate, straddling his lower belly. He had him pinned against the mattress, keeping his arms down with as much gentleness as possible.

If it hadn't been for a certainf orceful punch into the ex hunter's ribs, Dean wouldn't have noticed his mate seizing beside him. But when he did, he worked fast and efficient until he wouldn't be able to hurt himself.

Then, suddenly, the young omega went lax beneath him.

"Sammy.", Dean choked out. What the hell was that? "Sam ... can you hear me? Sammy?"

The omega's head lolled to the side on the pillow, sweaty bangs of hair sticking to his face.

The alpha took Sam's face in between his hands und rubbed with his thumps over his cheeks.

"Sam.", Dean murmured again. He rubbed over Sam#s forehead, brushing more hair aside. "Shit."

One moment his mate was fast asleep and the other one he's been – kind of – seizing.

What reminded him of that one time, when he'd come from shopping, finding Sam and Bobby on the floor, cookies everywhere.

"Vision.", the ex hunter mumbled hoarsely. "What the hell."

He climbed off of Sam's lap, one hand staying on his chest, feeling the erratic rise and fall as he breathed.

Dean hesitated for the longest of seconds, before he got up with a huff and went into the kitchen to get water and pills. Like he thought, Sam was still unconcsious when he returned into the bedroom.

Nonetheless, he sat down at Sam's side and patted his cheek gently.

"Baby?", he asked concerned with a deep frown on his forehead. "C'mon, Sam."

He didn't get any response, except for fluttering eyelids and a small sound.

"Sam.", he repeated harsher.

Obviously, it seemed to work.

A full-body-shiver wrecked his mate's body and then Sam's eyes fluttered open to small slits. The omega drew in a shaky breath.

"There you go, Sweetheart." He breathed a sigh of relieve. "That's it."

Sam's hand lifted and landed on his forehead. He winced. "Shit."

"You can say that." Dean sat back, his hand on Sam's chest. "What the hell was that?"

His omega squeezed his eyes shut and drew in a slow breath. The smell of wet dog still stuck in his nostrils.

"I don't know ... It's ..." Sam exhaled carefully as if it'd hurt. "My head."

"Got 'ya pills." Dean helped him to sit up and handed him the pills. He watched his mate swallowe them with two long gulps of water.

He murmured a thanks and laid back, his hand still pressed to his forehead.

"Wanna try go back to sleep?"

Sam shook his head and got rewarded with a wave of dizziness and a flash of pain.

"Wanna talk about it?" Dean eyed his mate uncertainly.

Sam breathed a soft "No".

The alpha chewed on the insides of his lips.

Sam felt his mate's gaze at him. He sighed and rolled to his side, away from Dean. Though he added while he turned around: "Just ..."

Sam didn't say anything else, only wrapped the comforter tighter around his shoulders and pulled his knees up.

For a short moment, Dean had though tthat Sam'd push him away or something. The simple gesture nearly giving him a heart attack, but he had been wrong – gladly. Sam's soft voice assured him that it was nothing like that.

He noticed that, when Sam reached for Dean's and and tugged on his sleeve.

"Yeah. O'corse. Gonna take a leak before though." He brushed over Sam's side and got up.

When Dean came back from the bathroom, Sam lay on the bed just like before, curled up into a tight ball. The ex hunter slipped under the covers and tugged Sam closer.

He brushed over Sam's hair.

"I think they killed him." Because that's what it had felt like. The pain. The coldness. That cold smirk with which the young hooded man had stared down at him. He felt something tear into his flesh, breaking bones ... Like it had been he himself ...

The alpha frowned, but didn't say anything. Sam may or may not would continue, and if he did, he shouldn't keep talking because Dean wanted him too. The ex hunter knew, that Sam'd tell him sooner or later.

So why prying?

Instead he brushed over Sam's head and cheek and wrapped his arm around the omega's middle.

He still couldn't wrap his mind around it, that Sam was capable of making himself THAT small.

"Orpheus. - I think they killed him. I saw it. I FELT it ..." He trailed off and closed his eyes for a moment. "He ... he was running ... and ... then he fell ... and there was this man ..."

Dean traced with his figertips up and down his mate's spine. Orpheus. The parasite. The thing Sam had called his CHILD.

What started off like a slight tremble, soon morphed into something more ... intensive. "I think ... he's dead, Dean. Why ... I mean ... I thought ..." Sam knew that this was irrational. He knew that he actually didn't have any reason to grief over the creature, had he?

And though he felt like crying.

"It's ... I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean had no clue wat to say to his mate. He had no clue how someone like Sam was ticking and what it'd do to someone to loose a kid. Even if that parasite hadn't been Sam's child anyway.

Fuck that. It was too complicated to think about it right now and Dean Winchester was way to tired to intent.

"I know it's stupid ... but ... He was panicked. He ... he was afraid." Sam choked back a hiccup. "I ... I could feel it ..."

Dean swallowed. Hard.

The alpha had no clue why he felt his eyes burn. Why his throat was closing up on him. And he didn't know how the death of a monster could possibly affect him like that and bring him to the brink of tears.

Then again ... he could feel what Sam was feeling. And when Sam sensed what the creature had been feeling, it wasn't impossible to not sense nothing.

The alpha tugged his mate closer and closed his eyes. "I know, Baby. I know."

He kissed the younger man's forehead tenderly. "You know where?"

Sam shook his head. "I only saw woods."

"Duh." Dean blrew out a breath. If Sam'd had at least a hint to where this would happen, or had happened, they could've probably look for the creature – or whatever.

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

Sam had a restless sleep. He trashed and turned and was murmuring unistinguishable things. That was why Dean didn't get a whole lot of sleep either.

The next morning came pretty quick too, since neither of the both of them could get back to sleep after Sam last got up to visit the bathroom.

That had been about six in the morning.

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

They got up then and got dressed in silence.

Dean and Sam then headed into the kitchen, where they made breakfast.

Too, in perfect silence.

When breakfast was ready, they set up the table and filled their plates, but no one of them was actually eating. The both men only nursed their coffee-filled mugs and avoided each other's gazes.

Eventually, Sam got up and went for the frontdoor.

The alpha followed him with his gaze and was about to get up too to follow Sam, but the omega stopped in his tracks, turned around and shook his head with a pleading expression on his face, telling Dean "No".

So Dean sat back down.

He felt so damn miserable.

First, because he obviously had understimated Sam's and the crature's bond.

Second. Because he couldn't ease his mate's sadness, even if he tried. That was something he knew.

And third. Just because ...

Dean put their breakfas t- scrambled egs – into the fridge and refilled his mug with coffee.

He gazed at the watch every now and then, keeping an eye on how long Sam was outside. Alone. Doing god knew what ...

After fifty-six minutes and seventeen seconds the ex hunter have had enough.

Dean Winchester slipped into his boots and his jacket and stormed outside, just to get to an aprupt halt when he spotted Sam sitting at the stairs.

He had thought that Sam may had been wandering the yard What wasn't a bad thing. But thinking about all the things that were happening out therr right now and the knowledge tha tthey could still want to come for Sam – just because they were digbags – wouldn't let him rest in peace.

So he'd rather follow his mate.

"I was just sittin ghere.", Sam murmured, his words sounding wet. Dean watched the younger man whipe over his face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

Sam'd been crying.

Dean didn't say anything.

He sat down beside Sam and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He then tugged him closer and the both of them continued to stare at the different shades of gravel before their feet.

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

They went to Bobby's for noon, where everyone – even John – noticed that something wasn't quite right. So while Sam had fallen asleep after lunch, on Bobby's couch, the younger Winchester gathered the others – Bobby, John, Jim and Ellen – in the kitchen and told them about Sam's vision.

It wasn't a thing he wouldn've told them. But under those circumstances and the fact that this may could be important he had to.

He didn't tell them about what Sam had felt though. Only that he'd have a vision and that he'd seen Orthos and that Sam thought that the creature was dead.

And – of course – that there'd been someone else.

~ '67 Chevrolet Impala ~

While the others spread out to get informations about weird animal sightings, Bobby and Dean stayed in the kitchen.

Bobby was doing hte dishes and Dean was leaning beside him against the counter, a mug with coffee in one hand and the other one in his jeans pocket playing with the keys of his Impala.

The grizzled hunter had been a little bit silent while lunch and after that too.

And for the others ... usually they wouldn't go each others ways after lunch that fast. Ususally they were drinking coffee and wer chatting.

"What is it?", Dean finally asked and gazed at Bobby.

The grizzled hunter sighed and dropped the sponge into the sink instantly. Obvously he'd been waiting for Dean to notice or something. Or maybe Dean talking up made whatever he wanted to say easier.

What bothered the youngest Winchester suddenly. Usually, Robert Singer was no one to dance around the bush. He'd always been straight forward.

Dean frowned at Bobby and pushed away from the counter. He turned towards the older man and rose both eyebrows, his heartrate picking up slightly.

It had to be something bad, hadn't it? "Bobby?", Dean choked out. He sensed bad news. Real bad news. "What ... what is it? You guys find anything out about the ritual?"

Bobby huffed out a breath and sighed. He then shook his head and huffed out another breath. "No, son. Nothing like that." The grizzled man stole a vague glance at the ex hunter. "It's ..." Bobby hesitating never meant something good.

"I need you in the shop, Dean." The grizzled hunter thrust his jaw forward (what was actually not really visible under all that beard). He was actually facing the younger Winchester but wasn't able to look him in the eyes. "I ... I don't like that I've to ask you to ... but I need help. There are about five cars standing at the yard which I need to have a look at. Customers are calling when their cars are ready to pick up ... It's ..." He sighed again and rubbed over his beard, visible uncomfortable. "I know it's hard, okay? I do understand that. And I know that Sam's not ready to ... you know ... But I need to keep the shop going and I can't do that on my own. Not now. People are waiting for their cars .. and I ... I just ..." Bobby was babbling. Robert Singer was freaking babbling.

Rather surprised, Dean stared at his bearded friend with cocked eyebrows. "That's all?"

Bobby caught Dean's gaze and stared at him for a long moment. Obviously shocked that his friend didn't seem as bothered about it as he was. "What ... that's all? - I'm asking you to come back to the shop."

Bobby had seemed to think that it was a big deal.

Though ... "That's not a big deal. - Figured you'd tell me they rose Lucifer from hell or something." Dean chuckled and shook his head. The initial shock already gone again.

Though, he knew why Bobby seemed so nervous about it. Because of Sam. Because the omega was a lot, but surely not ready to ...

Dean stopped himself right there.

Sam was capable of a lot of things. He could take care of himself. He could occupy himself.

Though ... right now it may was a bad timing.

"Is monday okay?", Dean asked, trying to act and look relaxed, even when first doubts bloomed in the back of his head. "I'd ... like to prepare Sam for it, 'kay? Besides ..." He gestured into the living-room.

Bobby nodded. "Sure thing." He too, was obviously relieved.

"You know, you could've said something earlier." Dean sighed and shook his head.

"When? After getting the parasite out of Sam? Maybe when he had his ... seizures? - You couldn't have left Sam on his own and I couldn't have demanded that from you." The grizzled man was right, and he knew it. So did Dean.

The only question was, how Sam'd take it if he'd tell him, that he was going ot work again and that Sam'd be on his own ...

Then again ... maybe some alone-time for the omega wasn't that bad, since they were practically glued together ever since Dean had gotten him from Columbus.

Though.

What could possibly go wrong?

... to be continued

OF COURSE everything can go wrong, right, folks? ^^

I'm so very sorry for those long waits in between. I'm so wound up with school, that it's hard to write in between ...