Thank you so much SamGirlDeanCurious for beta'ing and VegasGranny and Ncsupnatfan for pre-reading.

Chapter Eighteen

John had barely done more than get to his feet, wipe the blood that dripped to his chin, and drink the whiskey Dean had poured for him before a cry of pain coming from the bedrooms made him drop the glass down onto the table and run.

Dean caught the glass automatically before it could roll onto the floor and then set off after him.

They met the other Dean in the hall, his eyes wide and scared as he said. "Dad, he's really bad."

John didn't acknowledge his words; he just sprinted away and a moment later, they heard his voice ordering Jessica away and then softening as he tried to soothe Sam.

Dean's heart was in his throat and he went after him, at a slower pace. He was reluctant to see the now-awake Sam and what he was going through.

The horror inside the room was just as he'd feared. Sam was lying in the center of the bed, his head thrown back against the pillow and his teeth bared as he tried to breathe through pain. It was impossible for Dean to not see his Sam in that familiar face, and he felt sick as he locked his legs in place to stop himself from running to his side to help.

Jessica was on the bed, too, but sitting on the edge with her hand reaching toward Sam but resting on the blanket, not making contact. John was crouched beside the bed and his hands fisted in front of him. His voice was pitched low and calm as he said, "It's okay, Sammy. We're going to find a way to fix this. Just breathe. I know it's hard, but you can handle it. We're all here." His voice broke. "I'm here."

The other Dean looked at his Castiel desperately and said, "What the hell do we do, Cas? We can't leave him like this. He'll have a heart attack or go into shock."

Dean thought it would be a slower end than that for Sam. He would be tormented into some kind of madness the way his Sam was, and it was his failing body as sleep deprivation sapped his strength that would be his end. But telling them that would reassure no one. And there was no need. They were going to fix this for Sam.

This world's Castiel, still standing at the end of the bed, was focusing intently on Sam. His eyes obviously seeing more with his grace and angelic vision than Dean was able to. Without looking away from Sam's anguished form, he said, "I don't know. Even if I was able to heal, this isn't something I could cure. I don't have enough strength to take the memories even. I can modify something small like I did the nurse when we found him, but something like this, the pure trauma and depth of it, is out of my control." He looked across the room to his counterpart who was standing at Dean's side and watching the scene with worried eyes. "Can you help?"

"Yes," Castiel said. "At least I think so. When our Sam went through something similar, a wall was created in his mind to bar those memories. It was created by Death, and he is immeasurably more powerful than any angel, but I can try to do it myself."

John looked over his shoulder as Sam groaned in pain, and he snapped, "Then do it! Help him!"

"Please," the other Dean said, the word sounding awkward on his tongue, as if he wasn't used to using it in this world. "We can't do anything."

Dean knew how that felt as he had seen his Sam suffering while he was helpless, and he knew the pain that created, the fear and frustration that was like lava in his stomach.

Castiel glanced at Dean who nodded and then moved closer to the bed on the side Jessica sat. "I need space," he said.

Jessica reluctantly climbed from the bed and moved to stand by Jack and the other Castiel at its foot.

Dean's own Castiel sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Sam, you need to be calm. This might hurt, but it will be better after."

"Hurt?" John snorted. "What do you think this is if not hurting? And how's he supposed to be calm in this kind of pain."

Castiel acknowledged his words with a nod and then pressed his fingers to Sam's forehead and frowned in concentration.

No one in the room seemed to breathe apart from Sam who was panting, and all eyes were fixed on him and Castiel. Dean was willing it to work, willing his faith in Castiel's abilities to not be misplaced, that he would be strong enough to do this. He saw quickly that it had been as the light faltered and Sam cried out again. This time John reached for him and cupped his cheek as his soothing words resumed.

"What's wrong?" Jessica asked. "Why isn't be better?"

"I am not strong enough," Castiel said. "He has been through so much and his mind is so confused. I can see the pieces I need to make the wall, but I can't reach them through the turmoil."

"Then what do we do?" the other Dean asked. "Can we get Death back?"

Though Dean thought she would be watching them still, he didn't think she would help if she even answered. She wasn't invested in this world or these people. Whatever connection there was between Dean and his family in their world didn't exist in this one.

"I need more power," Castiel said.

"Hell," the other Dean said with a sigh, "use the kid's. He's practically a nuclear reactor of power, right?"

Castiel looked up and at Jack with fervent eyes. "Yes. Jack, come here."

Jack walked to him and then faltered as Sam's low cries reached a new pitch. "What do I do?" he asked nervously.

"I need you to share your grace," Castiel said.

Jack's eyes widened. "You mean take it the way Lucifer did?"

"No," Castiel said quickly. "I merely need you to send it to me so I can do this. Do you remember sharing your power with me before you were born?"

Jack shook his head, his eyes wide, "No!"

Castiel frowned and then said, "Concentrate on the way you feel when you kill an angel; that's you sending your grace at them. I need the smallest portion of that."

"But if I do it wrong, I'll kill you," Jack said desperately.

"Then don't do it wrong," the other Dean said coldly.

Castiel shot him a sharp look and then addressed Jack again. "You won't hurt me. I trust you. Hold my arm and concentrate on what I need. Start with a little and increase it if I say. I will stop you before it becomes too much, I promise." When Jack still looked unsure, he said, "Please, Jack I can't do this without you. I need your help and I know you can do this. I trust you."

Jack moved closer and laid a hand on Castiel's upper arm as the angel touched Sam's temple again and concentrated. The blue-white light of his grace glowed under his palm and faltered, but as he said, "A little more, Jack," a golden hue added and it shone brighter.

"That's it," Dean breathed as he focused on this world's Sam's face as the light shone and become more and more golden. "You've got it.

Castiel nodded and said, "Just the smallest amount more, Jack, and I'll be able to do it."

The light glowed brighter and Sam's breaths caught and stopped for a moment on a pained inhale. He flinched back against the pillow, but Castiel's hand moved with him, keeping contact.

"That's it," Castiel said gently. "It's almost there."

The light shone so brightly that Dean's hand flew up to cover his eyes as Sam cried out and then, the light faded and Sam's cry stopped.

Dean lowered his arm and saw that Jessica, John and the other Dean were doing the same. They blinked rapidly and looked at Sam who looked peaceful now. His lips were slightly parted by the steady breaths that passed between them and his face was free of pain.

"Did it work?" Jessica asked.

"Yes," Castiel said. "The wall is created. He's protected." He looked to Jack and smiled with pride shining in his eyes. "Thank you, Jack."

Jessica laughed shakily and quickly climbed onto the bed again to curl herself at Sam's side, completely unselfconscious of the other people in the room as she kissed his cheek and whispered his name.

"He will sleep deeply for a while," Castiel said. "And when he wakes, he's going to be confused and perhaps tender, but the memories will be gone."

"Good," John said, getting to his feet and coughing into his hand then quickly wiping a smear of blood onto his pants.

"He's going to be very confused," Dean said pointedly. "He just lost every memory of his life since… How much did you block, Cas?"

"Around the time he went to Lilith," Castiel said. "I can't be exact, but I imagine there will be hours or days around that time that will also be vague to him. It's not an exact art. I tried to block the memories that I saw as traumatic."

"And you can't let him go looking for them," Dean informed them, his eyes flickering between this world's Dean, John, and Jessica. "If he does, the wall might come down. Death told Sam not to scratch at it, and Sam said that was how it felt. His wall came down, but that was a little different. If he leaves it alone, this one will hold, right, Cas?"

Castiel nodded. "With the use of Jack's power and my own I was able to create a very strong barrier. If the experiences should start to bleed through, there is one more thing that can be done, but it comes with consequences." He looked at the version of himself of this world and said. "Do you think you have enough power to shift an experience?"

The Castiel considered for a moment and said, "I don't know. I would try though. With Hannah's help, we might be able to."

"Good," the other Dean said. "He's got double coverage. There's a wall and there's Cas. He'll be fine."

"What are the consequences?" Jessica asked.

Castiel opened his mouth to answer, but his counterpart spoke over him, "They are consequences that will only affect me, so they're unimportant. Sam is protected."

John patted Sam's arm and then pushed himself to his feet, leaning heavily on the bed, and said, "We can start the last trial now then."

Dean nodded but John's own Dean spoke up. "Not yet, Dad. We know how that ends, and you can't do that to Sam like this."

John looked stunned. "I am doing these trials, Dean. I am doing them for Sam, you, and Jess. This is what will end this war. If you think I'd give up now just because we got him back, you're—"

The other Dean held up his hand. "No, I get it. They've got to be done. I just mean you can't leave Sam without talking to him. Wait for him to wake up, tell him what's happening, then do it. He deserves a goodbye."

Dean knew himself how hard a goodbye could be, but he also knew what it felt like to not have one. He'd never said a real goodbye to Sam before he'd dragged Lucifer into the Cage, but he'd had the words he'd spoken when Lucifer was beating him—I'm here, I'm not going to leave you—to cling to after he was gone.

Sam hadn't needed a goodbye from Dean when he'd had those words. But hadn't gotten any words or goodbye from his father. John had left his room after telling him to get some rest, and the next time he'd seen him, he'd been on a hospital bed as doctors and nurses fought and failed to save him.

He knew that Sam was going to suffer no matter how it happened, whether he said his goodbyes or not, but it was better if he had something first.

"He's right, John," Jessica said. "He's going to need that."

"But if they come for him…" John started.

"I'll protect him," Jack said. "I can protect him from anyone or anything that comes. We have time."

John looked down at his son resting on the bed, his need clear, and then nodded and said, "Yeah, okay. I'll wait until he wakes up."

"You should get some rest until then," Dean said. "You're wrecked already, and the trials aftereffects are much rougher now, right?"

John shrugged off the question and said, "I'll be next door. I want you to wake me up as soon as he does."

"We will," the other Dean said.

John strode from the room and Dean, Castiel, and Jack followed, leaving Sam with this world's Castiel, his Dean, and Jessica.

Jack stopped outside the door and said, "I will stay here. I'll hear anything that happens, but they'll have some space with him. I think they need that."

"They do," John said, then gave a curt nod and walked to the next room along the hall and let himself inside, closing the door hard behind him.

"I'm going to check in with Sammy and then crash, too," Dean said. "Wake me up if anything happens."

They nodded their agreement and he continued down the hall and turned a corner to a room that was unoccupied in his world. He let himself in and clicked the door closed behind him before dropping down onto the end of the bed and pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. He was exhausted, drained, and stressed. He needed sleep and time to just think, but before that, he needed to talk to his brother.

He pulled the phone from his pocket and dialed Sam's number. It was answered after a moment and Sam's voice, sounding oddly bright, said, "Hey, Dean. How's it going?"

"Hey, Sammy. It's okay. Cas got the wall up with Jack's help so Sam is okay, sleeping now, but okay. You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way out now."

Dean was pleased that Sam had gotten out without obvious problems, and he was looking forward to seeing him, helping where he could. "You are? Want me to send someone to come get you?"

"No, don't send anyone. I'm going to drive back. I just need a little time. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Dean frowned. It was a full day's drive from Maryland back to the bunker, and Sam had to be as exhausted as he was. He understood Sam not wanting to be there with the other Sam and Jessica, but he knew they needed to do the trial.

"What about the third trial?" he said. "We need to get that done."

Sam hesitated and then said. "The third trial? Yeah, of course. Wait for me though. I want to be there for it. We have time, right?"

Still frowning, Dean said, "We've got five days left on Billie's clock."

"Yeah, five days, I remember. I'll be back long before she comes for us. I need to go. I'll see you soon, Dean."

Before Dean could say another word, the call had clicked off. He lowered his phone to his lap and stared at it. Sam sounded wrong, too happy, and he didn't see a problem with them waiting a day to start the trial, even though he knew they'd gotten Sam out of Hell way too easily.

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. He thought he knew what was happening. Sam was hurting bad and trying to hide that by acting happy. He was giving himself time before coming back to protect himself, which Dean understood and wanted him to have, but he knew they wouldn't' be able to persuade John to wait for Sam to get back to start the trial unless his own Sam was still sleeping then.

Maybe it was better that Sam not be here for it at all. If they could get the trial done before he got back. With Hell closed, there was no reason for them to stay. They could get out of this world without Sam needing to see Jessica again at all.

And then he would find a way to get Sam through the pain he was going to be feeling after having to let the love of his life go again.

So… The wall is up and John's got one Trial left. We're edging in on the end now.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx