End of the line for this one, folks. I want to thank all of you for reading and reviewing. This story was so fun to write, it even surprised me at times.
Chapter 12
It did not take long for Sam to realize their situation was bad and that he had to do something quick. He glanced at Lara. She needed to be out of there. But he definitely could not abandon Dean to the Pied Piper.
"Get out of here," he told Lara. "Go straight ahead until you find a tree with a hollow in it. Hide there and wait for us."
He shrugged off his jacket and handed it to her.
"Take this. It'll keep you warm. Now go!"
Lara hesitated, looking from Dean to Sam. It was clear Sam had no intention of going anywhere without Dean.
"You're his little brother," she discovered. "He told me you're always there for him."
Sam's mouth twisted in a grim smile.
"I try to be. Get out of here, Lara! Go!"
She ran then and Sam released a breath he did not know he had been holding. With Lara out of the way, he could afford to be reckless. Dean would have killed him, if he had known what was in Sam's mind. But Dean wasn't even conscious, so what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. At least, that was what Sam hoped.
The Pied Piper was bending over Dean, who had yet to move. But the Pied Piper was probably prying through Dean's memories, feeding on all the bad stuff in Dean's head, and, as messed up as it sounded, that was good news to Sam. It meant Dean was still alive.
"Hey!" Sam cried. "It's me you want! I've got way better stuff in my head than he does."
He did not think of that stuff, though. Instead, he urged himself to think of all the good times he and Dean had shared. He pictured all their car rides, their games, and their pranks, all the things that always reminded Sam of how much he was loved, even when he had thought he did not deserve it. He remembered the hug he and Dean had shared after he had woken up from his recent resoulling, and tried to capture that feeling of utter relief and safety.
If the reactions from bad memories fed the Pied Piper, then feelings caused by good memories might damage him. Or, at least, they might offer protection to anyone trying to challenge him. At least, Sam hoped his theory was correct. But, since Dean's life was at stake, there was no time to reflect more on what he was doing. He simply followed his instinct.
The Pied Piper moved slightly away from Dean. He was looking straight at Sam, even though Sam could not see his face clearly. Sam waved.
"He's got forty years in Hell," he said, pointing to Dean. "I've got about two hundred. How about you come here and sample me?"
"Oh yeah," he thought. "If I survive, Dean's going to kill me. Slow and painful, just like he likes it." But at least it would mean Dean was alive to do so. Honestly, Sam did not care much beyond that.
He braced himself when the Pied Piper rushed towards him. He aimed his gun and fired, hitting the thing point blank in the chest. It staggered, and, for a moment, Sam allowed himself to believe it would really be that easy. But, of course, it never was with them.
The Pied Piper was upon him now. With one wave of his arm, he tossed the gun from Sam's hand. Sam backed off slightly, until his back hit the altar stone.
The Pied Piper's hands were on Sam's head now, as Sam struggled to break free. But his opponent was strong, certainly much stronger than Sam would have assumed someone his size would be. Loretta had been feeding him well over the years, though. Sam could not help wondering how much of that strength came from him and Dean.
He could feel the foreign mind prying inside his own, a sense of intrusion that reminded him of all the various possessions he had experienced and nearly sent him in a panic. He fought against the fear, knowing it would become food to the Pied Piper. He tried to think of Dean, of the many times Dean had saved him, even when Sam had been sure he was not worth saving. The Pied Piper's hold slackened slightly, and Sam's struggles increased.
The Pied Piper was still trying to attack his mind. He had found the Wall, Sam could feel that, and he was ready to attack it with the strength of a battering ram. Vague memories of pain and fire teased on the edge of Sam's consciousness. He saw the satisfaction in the Pied Piper's eyes, and he knew that this time, he could not win.
The crack of a gun close by deafened Sam. The Pied Piper swirled round, but his hold on Sam did not waver.
Dean was kneeling in the grass beside Loretta. The look in his eyes spelled murder.
"Get your hands off my brother," he snarled.
Sam gasped Dean's name, relieved and concerned about what was going to happen next. A bright flash in Dean's hand told him Dean had the pipe. A look at Dean's pale face, however, warned Sam that, while Dean was keeping himself conscious now through sheer stubbornness, it was not going to last long. Not unless Sam held the Pied Piper distracted.
The Pied Piper's hold on Sam had slackened, momentarily taken in by what Dean was doing. Sam grabbed at the hands holding his head, intent on pushing them away and turning tables on his enemy. The movement had the Pied Piper's attention on him again.
Sam braced his legs, trying to trip his enemy. If he could get him on the ground, he would buy Dean time to destroy the pipe. At the same time, he did something he was sure Dean would have never approved of. He tried to recall the moments before he had cast himself into the Cage, trying to remember as much as he could, getting dangerously close to the wall. Dangling that kind of bait in front of the Pied Piper's nose was sure to keep the thing distracted, his attention on Sam and away from Dean.
He noticed the glint of greed in the Pied Piper's eyes. Loretta had been feeding him normal stuff, common fears and sorrows that, while they had strengthened him little by little throughout the years, could not compare to what Sam had. This would give the Pied Piper an instant boost, enough energy for him to raze to the ground at least three towns the size of Rattigan and still have some juice to spare.
"That's right," Sam repeated. "It's me you want."
If they kept this up, Sam was sure the Pied Piper would shatter the Wall in his mind. But at least it would buy Dean enough time. He concentrated on that and told himself that whatever came after would be worth it if it meant Dean getting rid of the Pied Piper – and coming out of the confrontation alive and relatively unscathed.
A flash of fire in the corner of his eyes had Sam freezing, ceasing his struggle and becoming almost limp in the Pied Piper's grasp. Was this it? Had the Wall been shattered and was he about to see what had happened during his time in the Cage? But no, the fire did not come from his memory. It was real. Dean had set fire to the pipe.
The Pied Piper let go of Sam, who stumbled to his knees. He saw the Pied Piper stagger, lurching towards Dean – or maybe trying to get to the pipe and prevent it from being destroyed, but the only thing Sam could focus on was that the thing appeared to be making a threatening move towards his brother. His gun lay close to him in the grass. Sam reached out to it and fired. The Pied Piper stumbled and wailed in pain. If the bullets had no effect before, now with the pipe burning, the creature was becoming vulnerable.
The pipe was turning into ash before their eyes. Flames engulfed the Pied Piper now. All around them rats were scuttling in a panic, some collapsing unmoving, others bursting into flame.
The Pied Piper vanished in a cloud of smoke. There was no sign of him or his rats. Only Loretta's body and the pile of ash where the pipe had been were there to prove that the night's adventures had been real.
Panting, with his memories from Hell so dangerously close to creeping through cracks in his Wall, Sam raised his head searching for Dean. His brother was kneeling close to the burnt pipe, looking pale and exhausted. Sam wondered what the Pied Piper had dredged up from his mind in those moments after Loretta's death, before Sam had managed to distract him.
Dean looked up and met Sam's eyes. Sam's lips twitched in a clumsy attempt at a smile.
"Hey," he said, his voice surprisingly hoarse.
Dean snorted at Sam's words. He staggered up and took several steps until he was close to Sam. There, he knelt down beside his brother – or maybe he had allowed himself to fall down, from what Sam could see, Dean had not look too steady on his feet.
"You ok?" Sam tried, cringing at the absurdness of his question.
In answer, Dean lay his hand heavily on Sam's shoulder. They stood like this for a long time, drawing strength from each other. They knew they would soon have to pick themselves up and find Lara and take her home. Still, they allowed themselves a few more minutes to indulge in a world where it was only the two of them. That was the safest they felt sometimes.
xxxxXXXxxxxxxx
Sam and Dean delivered Lara safely home. Then they drove out of Rattigan before the grateful inhabitants figured out they had killed the owner of their hotel. Not that anyone would morn Loretta much. While the Winchesters had destroyed all traces of the Pied Piper, they had left enough evidence to tie Loretta to the disappearances. At least the families would have some answers then.
They drove until they were a couple of towns away, then stopped at a nearly empty motel to rest and regroup. Afterwards, they decided to head back to Bobby's.
Bobby was glad to see them. He listened to their account of the hunt and said he would make some notes in his journal. He then informed Sam he'd had some ancient lore books delivered to him from an antiques dealer lady friend who happened to know a little bit about Bobby's business. Would he be interested to check them out?
Dean watched as Sam drooled over a pile of ancient, moldy manuscripts. His brother looked in a world of his own. He would remain at Bobby's table for a long time, his nose buried in the books. Kid could probably read through an apocalypse. Which suited Dean fine. He had one last loose end to tie.
xxxXXXXXxxxxx
Greenberg was whistling as he left the bar. He had been out of the hospital for two days and he was ready to blow town. Especially since he knew there was nothing worth staying for. That nurse who usually worked night shifts had been all kinds of hot – until she had slapped him and called him a pig when Greenberg had suggested he would benefit from some different kind of healing. Greenberg shook his head. Her loss, really.
He had his truck door open when he stiffened at the unmistakable sound of someone sneaking up behind him. His hand went to where he hid his gun, but it was already too late. He felt an explosion of pain in the back of his head, and his world went dark.
A splash of cold water on his face brought Greenberg back to his senses. He blinked up at the young man who was pointing a gun at him. The look in his eyes spelled murder.
"What the hell?" Greenberg muttered. "Who the hell are you?"
He realized he was in his truck. The highway was close by, judging from the sound of passing cars, but not near enough for anyone to notice someone being held at gun-point. Greenberg made to sit up, but his attacker pushed the gun towards him.
"One wrong move and I'll take it as a reason to shoot," the man said. 'And trust me," he said with a wild, almost feral grin. "I'm dying for you to give me a reason right now."
Greenberg raised his hands carefully to show that he had understood. He had seen many dangerous things in his life and knew that he did not want to mess with the man before him.
"Look," he began reasonably. "If you're here because I did something to your girl – whoever she is – trust me, if I did something to her, she was more than willing, so the problem isn't me here, pal, it's you."
The man laughed, shaking his head.
"This isn't about you doing something to a girl." All traces of amusement vanished and his eyes turned hard as flint. "It's about you doing something to my brother."
For a moment, Greenberg was confused. Had the guy's brother been a monster Greenberg had killed? A guy he had roughed up in one of his many bar fights? A victim he had abandoned in favor of finishing a hunt? Then, he took a closer look at the stranger. He had never seen him before, but there was something familiar about him, nonetheless. And suddenly he remembered the phone call he had gotten several days back. And he knew exactly who was standing in front of him.
"Let me guess – Dean Winchester? I should have known after getting Singer involved that I'd have you on my ass. After all, you Winchesters don't know when to quit."
Dean's eyes narrowed. His hand moved in a flash, punching Greenberg in the face. Greenberg's head snapped and he tasted blood.
"That's for Sammy. And for all the other kids."
Greenberg frowned in confusion. He shook his head to clear the fog caused by the unexpected blow.
"What the hell are you talking about, man? I'm the one who saved your brother back then…"
Dean grabbed him by the collar, his face dangerously close to Greenberg's.
"You're the one who used my brother. You sent my Dad on a wild goose chase and handed a vulnerable twelve year old to a monster! Then you lost him."
"Look, man, we were not making any headway with the boogeyman. Kids were dying…"
He was cut off when Dean shook him.
"My brother nearly died. What, was he in any way worth less to you than other kids? What did he do to make him expendable?"
Don't you know? Greenberg wanted to say. Hello? Apocalypse? Demon blood? Those ring any bells to you? Still, Greenberg had enough sense of self-preservation left to keep such opinions to himself.
"I didn't mean to lose him that night," he said, and that, at least, was the truth. "And I took him straight to Doctor Blackstone as soon as I found him."
"And then?" Dean prompted.
Greenberg snorted.
"What do you think? Then I took off. Your Dad made it clear – as soon as Sam was found, he'd put a bullet in me. What, do you think I was gonna stick around for that?"
Dean's hands clenched on the gun. For a moment, Greenberg was afraid he had escaped the father only to be capped by the brother years later. Then, Dean drew slightly back.
"I'm just trying to figure out what was in your head," he said. "How you thought you could use Sam like that and think nothing was going to happen to you afterwards."
Greenberg scoffed.
"Trust me, I got that from your Dad. You hit as hard as him, by the way."
Dean's smile turned wild.
"You don't know the half of it."
Greenberg hesitated.
"So, what now? Are you going to beat me up just because I lost your brother all those years back? You know, Hunters were talking about him even then. I was going to warn John after the Hunt. There were rumors about Sammy and none of them were good. And that night, when I found him, he said some things – if I had known back then what I know now…"
He stopped before he could finish his thought. The look in Dean's eyes told him clearly that, if he said that out loud, it would be the last thing he did.
Dean had guessed enough, though. His eyes narrowed. In a flash, he pushed Greenberg against the dashboard.
"Now, you listen to me," he hissed. "My brother's the reason why the world is still here. He's the reason you get to drive around in this piece of crap truck of your antagonizing everyone in sight. You remember that, because you damn well don't deserve it. Sam's also the reason why I won't empty my clip in you on principle alone, and trust me, I'm trying very hard not to do so. But Sam wouldn't want that. So you get to walk away with a warning."
"Oh yeah?" Greenberg snarled. "What kind of warning?"
"You stay away from us. And you especially stay away from Sam. I'm warning you, Greenberg, you even think about my brother wrong and I'll know. And I'll come and get you from whatever hole you crawled under. And then – then I'll finish the job."
Greenberg realized Dean meant every word. He would have to be careful what he said and who he said it to from then on.
"One more thing," Dean said. "Sam tried to warn you about what had taken him. You dismissed him. You wouldn't listen to him. So all the kids the Pied Piper took all those years – all their deaths are on you."
Greenberg could not help bristling at that.
"Now, wait just a minute…"
Dean's fist slammed against his head put a stop to his indignant spluttering.
When Greenberg woke up again there was no sign of Dean. He sat up groaning and took some time to get his bearings. Then, he was speeding away from Sioux Falls. He hoped never to meet the Winchesters again.
xxxXXXxxxxx
Sam was waiting for Dean when he returned, even though it was quite late. Dean waved the bag of snacks he had gotten from a gas station, as if to pretend that had been his only reason for going out. As if Sam had not figured things out already.
"Did you kill him?" he asked, without further introductions.
It was amusing how Dean's eyes widened and he tried to gain his footing. Taking his big brother aback had always been one of Sam's secret pleasures.
"Greenberg," Sam added. "I know that's why you went out."
Dean frowned.
"Bobby tell you that?"
"He did not have to," Sam replied. "I know you, man."
"Then you also know I didn't kill him. Just set him straight about some things."
Sam felt himself smiling against his will. How many times throughout their childhood had Dean not used the same words to talk about some schoolyard bully who just had to be "set straight" about Sam?
"Dean," he said, suddenly needing to say it. "Thanks."
Dean eyed him suspiciously.
"What, for Greenberg? I didn't think you'd agree."
Sam shook his head.
"Not for Greenberg. Well, not only for Greenberg. For…well, for everything, Dean," he felt Dean hesitating, and knew his brother was becoming uncomfortable with the conversation. But the Pied Piper had bought back so many memories, Sam was sure he would not be able to find peace unless he told Dean something of how he felt. "For some reason I sometimes can't understand, you were always here."
Dean scowled.
"I think it just became clear I wasn't. You nearly died while I was at Sonny's."
Dean turned his back to Sam. He was standing in front of the window, his eyes fixed on Bobby's scrap yard. Sam went to stand beside him.
"You came back as soon as you could, though. You always came back."
Dean glanced at Sam.
"So do you, you know," he pointed out.
Sam did not answer. But that was the truth. He had run away so many times and had come back to Dean just as many. From Stanford, from Ruby, from a mutually agreed upon separation after the start of the Apocalypse. Even from Hell. Castiel had told Sam that soulless him had been watching Dean from outside his house. Sam was sure now that, had his soul been in place, he would not have been able to stop himself from showing himself to Dean then and there. No matter how guilty he would have felt about dragging his brother from his normal afterwards. It was one of the rules of their messed-up lives. They always came back to each other. Because no one else knew them so well.
"Yeah," he said, his words both an admission about the past and a promise for the future. "I always come back."
They stood there, shoulder to shoulder until late into the night. They did not say anything else, but Sam would always remember that night as one of the best of his life.
Well, that was one wild ride. Thanks to all who joined me on it. New stuff will be coming soon. Stay safe.