"Embracing bygones

You build upon the ground you were taken from

To be robbed again

Silence won't pay cash in hand

So align the honest

Find in yourself solace with everything

Then fight for all you are worth"

(from Brave Face by Another Sky)

————-

Seven days later and they were no closer to breaking the curse. Sam, or was it Dean? He could no longer remember who had called Castiel, but the angel had joined their desperate research sessions.

Two weeks in and Dean stopped eating. Nothing he ate stayed down, the slow agonising wait for the wolf transformation robbing him of his appetite. The lack of sleep from either reading or going through the change, and he was too tired to even keep up the pretence for the sake of not worrying Sam and Cas.

A month of pain, pain, pain, and Dean no longer stayed even close to sober. Jack and José were terrible friends though, only making the time of recovery move faster whilst the period of pain dragged out as the change caused the alcohol to dissipate.

——————-

"I've been thinking", Sam leaned against the door frame to Dean's room. Dean had not even noticed his approaching footsteps, his head resting against the headboard yet not quite asleep. Sam paused for the inevitable quip but as Dean ignored the easy opening Sam continued.

"It's a truth spell, we know that much."

"So?" Dean still stared into the wall opposite, but at least he was u today. The bruises around his mouth less sore today perhaps Sam thought. Cas, on the other hand, had yet to speak to Sam since helping restrain Dean for the forced feeding they had administered two days prior.

"If you fulfil the demands placed on you, the curse should lift." It was his last-ditch attempt. They had already been down this avenue before. "You speak only the truth, and it should lift".

"I already tried that". They had. Two weeks in and Dean had been honest for a full day by barely speaking a word. The curse had still claimed the night and they had instead sought other ways to break it.

"But the spell didn't mean just truth", Sam continued. "The spell the witch cast, 'dicem veritatem tuam' translates to 'Speak your truth'. I don't think it is just being truthful that is needed. You have to express who you consider yourself to be. Your truth".

Sam waited. He could see that even in his inebriated state, Dean was considering it.

"How?" Dean replied after a long pause.

————————

He was looking at Sam with the same anger reserved for supernatural creatures as he bit into the burger Sam had placed in front of him. They were sitting by the middle table in the library, the gentle lighting contrasting to the anger swirling in Dean's eyes. Sam lifted his chin, a gentle challenge for Dean to eat, or else.

Dean was first to break eye contact. "So what do you think I have to say?"

"I don't know," Sam replied. "Tell me about something you think makes you you, I guess. Quintessentially Dean".

"Huh," Dean replied. "OK, here goes. My name is Dean. I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach..."

"Dean, come on."

Dean sighed. "Alright. But I don't know what to say. Can't you ask me something, to get me started?"

"OK". Sam considered whether to go for questions starting with earliest memory and moving forwards in a chronological order, but decided that the curse was probably more about the fundamental facts of who you were, which were not necessarily rooted in time. "Why do you hunt? Remember, you have to 100% honest or this won't work."

The reminder to be honest grated on Dean's already frayed nerves. His hatred of witches increasing another notch, before he answered. "I hunt to save people. Because people deserve saving, and they haven't got the training to deal with the supernatural. We do."

He paused as if considering continuing, before he added. "And I like the hunt, the thrill of the chase, the fight." He sat back.

Nothing that Sam didn't already know. But it was good start, as Sam knew that Dean had answered honestly.

Sam pondered next what was most important about Dean, but also something he would find easy enough to answer. They would have to build to the heavier stuff, he knew, if he were to keep Dean going. "Why do you love the Impala?"

Dean started grinning. "Baby is all smooth curves, power under the hood, and when she rolls, she purrs. Her leather seats fit just right, the black paint – she is so hot…"

Sam let Dean reminiscence about the car for a while until his patience started wearing thin. He should have known that Dean would use such an opening to keep up his, frankly, unhealthy attraction to the car. He glared at Dean, who for once took the hint.

On a more sombre note, Dean continued. "She never lets us down, always starts when we need her too. Always gets us to the hospital in time."

OK, time to move it along Sam thought. "Who is the most important person in your life?"

"You, Sammy." Dean answered. Though, his glaring at Sam belayed the warm feelings that sprung up in Sam's chest by Dean's honest reply.

"Why?" Sam countered.

"Urgh!" Dean rested his forehead on the table, clearly not keen on answering. "Because you're my brother. You know I love you, man. Why do you have to ask about this – you know this already."

"We're not doing this for my benefit. You have to speak your truth, Dean. And, who I am to you is part of that."

"Fine!" Dean replied in the tone of countless teenagers across the ages.

"You're my brother, you're family. I took care of you when you were little. I looked after you. We look out for each other." He stopped to consider next. "When we were little, you and dad, you were pretty much my entire world. Now, dad is gone and you're a big part of my life". He drummed his fingers on the table. "Biggest part of my life." he amended.

"We do things together, we're a team. It's you and me against the world, all them sons of bitches we fight. We fight together, we hunt together." Dean paused and looked to the side of Sam, no longer keeping eye contact.

"You know me better than anyone. We share experiences, pain, our entire lives". Dean glanced quickly at Sam, then away again. "You've got my back. I trust you with my life, more than anyone." Dean paused for breath and continued in a quiet voice. "I'm known because of you. Without you, I would be nobody."

The hollow statement at the end going against the very grain of Sam's being, but he knew that he could not start up a discussion about this. This was not about what Sam thought, or anyone else. This was Dean telling his view, his version. And Sam had to accept that, however much he wanted to argue against Dean's perception of his place in the world.

"Who is Cas to you?" he asked instead. On and on he asked questions and Dean answered. Long into the night, Dean telling his truth until morning when it was clear that he was not going to transform.

Dean had fallen asleep still dressed early in the morning and had slept through uninterrupted until late afternoon. He woke refreshed for the first time in weeks.

After celebrating with beer, nachos and greasy Mexican tortillas, Dean announced he was going out. Sam let him go, understanding the need for a bit of time apart after their marathon heart-to-heart of the night before.

It turned out that night that the curse would not be so easily dislodged. Dean felt the starting twinges of the transformation whilst knocking back another shot at Jake's bar and had managed to make it back to the bunker in time for Sam to lock him up again, his body and face already mangled and twisted as he finally crawled to the small, claw marked room.

For the first time he did not hold in his cries and screams as his body twisted and broke, until only the wolf remained. Sam sat at the other side of the door crying quietly so no-one could hear.