Full reality slammed back into Sam.
"Sam! Sammy!" Dean shouted into his ear and Sam jumped, eyes squinting and blinking around trying to orient himself under the covers. They slipped off and he registered shards of light, damp bed sheets from sweat, what had to be Dean's body practically on top of him. Sam started coughing, unable to take a full breath in the still-frigid surroundings, shell-shocked from the nightmare.
"D-Dean-," Sam whispered. Dean tightened his grip and rubbed his back harder.
"C-cold-" Sam could barely get out.
"Yeah we're trying to get your temp up, Sammy, don't worry," Dean replied, then pulled Sam with him to grab the thermometer off the bedside table. Sam twisted around, jerky and spastic. He needed to see his brother - see he was real. Lucifer's presence still felt so true. Like he'd appear any minute again with a cheerful 'surprise!' before catching and pulling him back down to the cage for the rest of eternity.
Dean let Sam just stare at him as he settled back down with the thermometer in hand.
"We're under six blankets and-" Dean trailed off just as Sam felt a foreign plastic point enter his ear. He flinched away but Dean grabbed him around the shoulders. "Hey-hey-hey it's okay, it's okay, Sam, it's just the thermometer, s'just me," Dean reassured, keeping the thing in his ear. Sam cringed, gritting his teeth as he shook in Dean's arms, trying his best to stay still despite the invasive feeling of the device. It beeped and went away. Dean swore when he looked at it, then dropped it to the side and pulled Sam impossibly closer to him.
"W-wha-"
"Nothing. Don't worry. We'll get it back up, Sam, just hold onto me, okay?"
Sam trembled but nodded and attempted to wriggle his arms and open his palms against Dean's back.
When he couldn't even open his palms it dawned on Sam then that he might not make it this time. This time, where he felt like any minute one of his frost-bitten limbs would break off and get carried back down to the pit. Piece by piece, atom by atom, he'd be dragged screaming back. This time, where he couldn't feel his body warming up under his brother anymore.
And Satan had promised it would be soon...
"H-he said..." Sam breathed, "I'm g-g-gonna go back, Dea-" Sam cried, tears starting to fall.
"You're not. You're not, Sam. It was a nightmare - just a nightmare-"
"F-felt r-r-real-"
Dean gripped the back of Sam's head.
"It wasn't real, Sammy, wasn't real," he whispered, "you're not ever going back there. You've got a one-way ticket to heaven, you know that," Dean finished, his voice cracking at the acknowledgement.
It was almost like Dean deserved this for having said what he had to Sam. He wanted Sam to reject death, yeah, but... not out of terror. Not because the kid would think he'd go back to hell.
"N-no," Sam quaked, "he s-said-"
"What did I say?" Dean interrupted sharply. "It wasn't real, Sam. C'mon get it together." Dean hefted Sam up, gripping him roughly. Sam was weak though and didn't even react to Dean's harsh treatment. He just kept shaking, frail, limply absorbing Dean's bruising holds. Dean softened and brushed his hair back as Sam gagged and tried as hard as he could to gulp tears back.
"Sorry, c'mon," Dean squeezed the back of Sam's neck and bent lower to kiss the side of his head, "you're gonna be just fine, Sammy. Just work on warming up, let's just keep you warm, okay?"
Sam wept into Dean's neck, as much from the hypothermia as his fear of dying and going back to the cage instead of heaven. His body wracked with spasms without any sign of letting up. Dean held them together, tight, and talked them through it. A solid presence keeping Sam in the here and now... but Sam could feel it. He knew Dean would soon too. The battle was coming to an end.
They remained silent for a couple of minutes, the fear sinking into Dean more and more that Sam wasn't warming. His circulation wasn't getting better. Sam best of all could sense streaks of painful ice jolt through him despite Dean's efforts. It was like Dean's warmth was only hitting the surface and retreating back again. It felt futile; Sam's body just wasn't warming.
After a few minutes, Sam had to speak up. His mind was fading, he knew. He couldn't allow this to happen without saying something to set things right. He wouldn't be able to talk eventually and he couldn't let Dean think he was going without a fight.
Sam bit back a sob.
"D-Dean?"
"Yeah?"
Sam felt tears slipping off the sides of his eyes. "If... f'I... die..."
"Sammy," Dean warned but his voice trembled and Sam grabbed Dean's arm feebly, cutting him off from saying anything more. Dean held his breath, willing to honor it.
Sam panted, waiting to steady his voice for what he was going to say next. He licked his lips and leaned his head back to look into his brother's eyes.
"Dean. I don't wan' you to..." Sam trailed off, fresh tears streaming from his eyes. He didn't... he wasn't sure what he was trying to say. Dean was looking at him with so much fear and love, his eyes glistening. Sam gasped a breath, demanding it of himself to get it out. "Dean, I'm so sorry," Sam whispered desperately.
Just as Sam finished, his spine gave another spasm and his torso jerked out of Dean's hold.
"Sam! No-no-no, Sam, come on!" Dean's arms grasped Sam under his back and pulled him up so he was lying across Dean's lap. Sam's hands, shaking and curled into loose fists, got pushed up and lodged between their chests as Dean held him like he weighed nothing across his chest.
"Don't apologize, Sam. You have nothing to apologize for, do you understand me? I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry," Dean whispered into his little brother's ear. Sam cringed into Dean's shoulder and let out another sob. He tried to wrap his arms around his brother and couldn't. Dean helped him get his arms around his neck though. Sam cried. Dean braced the back of Sam's head as his body continued to shiver. Panic tore through him as he realized Sammy was actually getting colder.
"I-I... might..." Sam choked, freezing against his brother's warm skin, "th-this time, Dean." Dean hiked Sam up closer against him. He licked his lips and closed his eyes.
"It's okay. That's okay. I'm right here, Sam. I'm not leaving you," Dean said, inwardly begging Sam not to try to say it out loud again. He hugged Sam close, "remember, Sammy? I'm never gonna leave you."
Sam wept and nodded.
"Good, Sam, just stay with me for as long as you can, okay?" Dean's voice cracked.
"Okay," Sam garbled, struggling to breathe.
Dean battled with his own denial. If this was what was happening he wouldn't be able to stop it and if that was the case, Sam had made a few things crystal clear about what he wanted from this moment.
Dean's eyes welled. He couldn't take that away from Sam even though he so desperately wanted to...
"Sammy I'm right here, you know that right?"
"Y-yeah," Sam gasped.
"All right and you're gonna hold on to me - you're gonna keep holding on to me until you can't hold on any more, right?"
"Y-ye-"
"Say it, Sammy, what're you gonna do?"
"H-hold... h-hold on," Sam cried, "t'you." He gripped Dean lamely as Dean hefted him up higher. Sam felt how strong Dean was every time he did that and wished that he could rely on it forever. He didn't want to die and he didn't want to go to hell.
He just wanted to be safe. He wanted to stay with Dean.
"Good Sammy, good job," Dean blinked tears back, his voice barely audible. Sam heard Dean choking up and it scared him. He tried to show Dean he was still there, still listening at least. He tilted his head and snugged in closer. Dean met the movement with his own.
Dean only ever covered him, protected him, promised him things that Sam never really thought he was worthy of having.
"Now Sammy you gotta listen to me, okay?" Dean asked, his voice crackling with emotion.
Sam gave a soft, barely discernible nod against Dean's neck.
"If you die," Dean held Sam tighter, willing against it with every fiber of his being, "you're going straight to heaven."
Dean felt Sam jerk with a sob. He wanted to believe it, but-
"I promise you, Sammy, you're not going back. You're gonna go straight to heaven, do you understand?" Dean felt Sam shakily nod against him. "Good. Now tell me. Where are you gonna go?" Dean coached through his own tears. Sam cried harder against his brother.
"C'mon Sammy where are you gonna go?" Dean prompted roughly, overcompensating for his own breakdown.
"Heaven," Sam wept through his own convulsions.
And after saying it, somehow Sam realized he was believing it.
"Good boy, good job," Dean hugged Sam, letting out another sob and kissing the back of his head. Sam felt a childhood thrill of hearing Dean's approval for just a moment before lapsing back into focus and concentration when Dean started talking again.
"Okay... one last thing, Sammy," Dean sniffed wetly, his voice breaking across the board. He waited for Sam to quiet.
"Say 'I love you, Dean,'" Dean whispered innocently between crying gasps and a self-conscious laugh, tears slipping and falling into his brother's hair. Sam's fingers clenched tighter in Dean's shirt, letting out a guttural sob at Dean's request. The kid gulped and managed to gather enough breath to say it.
"I... love y-you, Dean," Sam gasped through chattering teeth. He got to look into his brother's eyes. Dean stared back.
"I love you too, Sammy," Dean choked out, broken, and leaned Sam's head back to place a kiss to his little brother's cold forehead.
Dean crushed Sam back to him quickly.
"That's it. That's all, Sammy. I've got you. I've always got you," Dean whispered, digging his face into Sam's neck. He continued to rub Sam's back and rock his body as he held him, still hoping and praying that Sam's temperature could rise. Dean kept his voice going somehow no matter how raw his throat was, knowing full well that if Sam was slipping away, he'd know he wasn't alone. He'd never be alone.
Sam willed himself to feel the warmth surrounding him. He couldn't. He remained in his big brother's arms and just listened, gradually believing every single repeated promise coming from his brother until he started to feel consciousness start to slip away.
The bunker was quiet; all lights off save for a shaft flowing into the hall from the cracked door of Sam's room. Sleet and rain stormed down outside upon the Men of Letters bunker in the early morning hours. Dean could hear the muffled sounds pounding down upon their fortress. For all the safety and security this new home of theirs' provided, it wasn't protecting Sam.
Dean shifted, pulling Sam's limp form up higher against him. His bare back leaned against the craggy cement wall, Sam's back to his chest. His whole body was curled around his little brother's, the blankets wrapped around them as tightly as Dean could get them. The whispered platitudes he spoke against Sam's neck and into his ear were getting old. He'd been at it for an hour just talking to him, all the while keeping tabs on his slowing heartbeat with his palm pressed to his chest. He checked Sam's pulse at his neck and felt its increasingly sluggish pace.
He didn't know what more to do.
A slow tear broke from Dean's eye. He sniffed a few times before leaning Sam back and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He buried his face into Sam's neck. "I'm right here. I've got you, Sammy, just relax. You're safe. You're safe," he kept saying.
More time passed and while Dean was no longer recognizing Sam's temperature as still freezing against his own skin, he could only attribute that to his own numb shock. Sam had stopped moving or talking, it was long since he had formed a coherent sentence or even uttered a simple word. Sam gasped twice rapid-fire like he was suffocating then resumed his already distressed, shallow breaths. Dean held on.
"Sammy?" He asked fearfully. Sam wasn't crying anymore either. The older brother could only feel the smallest micro shivers working up and down his frame. "Sam?" Dean called again, his voice pitched with panic. He felt Sam's fingers move along his arm where they were tangled with Dean's. It was barely any pressure at all but it was still there. Dean couldn't receive it as a promising sign but he was taking what he could get. Against all odds, maybe Sam could bounce back from this.
Dean sniffed and blinked back tears.
He licked his lips and took a breath.
"Sammy, remember when you were really little? I used to sing to you," Dean rasped, throat sore, mouth dry. He felt Sam's fingers twitch again. He took it as his cue to go on. "I don't know if I ever told you but it was the song Mom used to sing to me. You always fell asleep so fast when I..." Dean choked, unable to continue, thinking of the innocent, wide-eyed baby that'd reach out to him in awe as soon as he'd go a few chords in.
Dean sniffed and blinked as he rearranged his brother, tilting his Sammy back so they could meet each other's eyes. Sam's were glazed, his expression neutral, but the kid managed to angle his sight up at Dean as his brother kept him bundled up warmly, cradled in his arms.
Dean began the starting notes to "Hey Jude" and took it slow, getting comfortable with holding the tune. His eyes crinkled into a blurry smile as he watched Sam's miniscule reactions, his muscles relaxing against Dean's body, softening to the words Dean sang, his guardian's voice smooth and soothing and promising a better end than any he could've imagined.
Dean watched as Sam's eyelids fell to half-mast and, before they closed all the way, audibly bit back a cry before kissing his baby brother once more on the forehead before whispering into Sam's ear.
"Close your eyes, Sammy. It's okay. I've got you. I've got you," Dean hugged him and didn't let go, clutching his little brother as he resumed the song to lull his brother to sleep... or death.
They remained that way for what felt like ages until Dean's arms wore out. He brought his brother's body back against him as he lay down. He kept one arm against Sam's back and a hand against Sam's head which now angled into the crook of his neck. Dean wouldn't let Sam's body fall away from him.
Dean kept singing, hoping Sam could still hear him yet refusing to check if he was even breathing anymore. He was too scared to have to face the truth if he wasn't. He wasn't ready for Sam to leave him. Not like this.
So Dean kept singing, his voice catching and scratchy as time - and the tune - wore on. His eyes were red and his skin pale from exhaustion, stress, and fear. Every now and then he'd tug Sam's limp form up closer to him and Sam would flop like a puppet according to Dean's touches. It terrified him but he still held on tight. Still kept Sam covered, protected, loved.
Dean trailed off weakly and drifted slowly into a haze of half wakefulness. He wouldn't dare fall asleep but he felt detached, a weary sense of calm coming over him as he simply waited. Quiet and still, he needed the resolve and strength to check on his brother. He didn't have it yet. So he just... waited.
A/N:
I might change the story cover so you guys can see it but for right now to see the AMAZING artwork by TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen for this chapter, you have to go visit my story on AO3. I'm fogsrollingin there too. For copy and paste purposes, slash works slash 1025750 and then click through to chapter 17. The link to her tumblr post of it: midnightsilver dot tumblr dot com slash post slash 185819046320
Originally published 1/5/2014, revised 7/24/2019! Thank you so much for reading! Please comment/review/kudos if you can spare the time! ~ Alex