Thank you for the reviews, faves, and alerts for the last chapter. FFnet has a glitch at the moment, so I haven't ben able to reply. I am very grateful for them though and appreciate the support as does Snarks.


Chapter Nine

That night Sam's dreams were fragmented and upsetting. He dreamed he was back in the alley, watching Dean killing the demon. In the dream, when he dragged Dean away, it was Lucifer laying on the ground, peppered with stab wounds.

When Sam woke, his breath came in pants and his heart raced.

He raked a hand over his face, trying to calm himself, but it was no use. There was only one thing that could calm him. He raised his eyes heavenward and called to his angel. "Lucifer, are you there? I need you. I'm in our old room."

He closed his eyes and waited for a full second before there was a rustling sound and he felt a second presence in the room. The bed dipped as Lucifer sat down, and Sam opened his eyes.

He sighed with relief as he saw Lucifer alive and well, although looking concerned, sitting beside him.

"What's happened?" Lucifer asked, reaching over and brushing the hair out of Sam's eyes.

Sam leaned into his touch. "Nightmare."

Lucifer shifted so he was sitting back on the bed, resting against the headboard, and Sam rested his head on Lucifer's shoulder. Lucifer continued to run his hands through Sam's hair, calming his racing heart and making him feel sleepy again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lucifer asked softly.

Sam took a deep breath and recounted his nightmare, making no attempt to hide just how much it had affected him.

"I am fine," Lucifer said reassuringly.

"I know, and I know Dean would never hurt you, but the dream was so real."

"I understand humans set great store by their dreams. Do you think something in particular triggered it?"

"We took a hunt, a demon, and Dean got a little carried away taking it out." He raked a hand over his face. "Okay, he got a lot carried away. He just kept stabbing it, Lucifer, even though it was dead. I have never seen him like that before. There was something missing in him; his eyes were dead. He wasn't..." He cleared his throat. "He wasn't Dean. Not the Dean I know anyway."

Lucifer was silent for a long moment. "I do not think you need to worry."

Sam turned so he could look Lucifer in the eyes. "What are you hiding from me?" He knew Lucifer well enough to know there was something he wasn't saying. After all their years together, there was little Lucifer could hide from him.

Lucifer's mouth twisted into a grimace. "There are things you should know about your brother, but I am not the one to tell you. That information must come from Dean."

Sam's heart contracted painfully in his chest. "He's okay, right"

Lucifer trailed his hands over Sam's cheek. "He is physically well. You do not need to be concerned."

"But mentally?" Sam probed.

Lucifer sighed. "This is not for me to say. I am sorry, Sam, but it's not my place to share what I know. That would be a gross betrayal to your brother."

Sam knew there was no budging Lucifer. He was resolved not to tell Sam anymore than he already had. It frustrated him, but he didn't push for more. If Lucifer thought it was important that Dean tell him these things, he would wait for Dean to tell him, no matter how frustrating it was for him.

"How are things going for you?" he asked.

Lucifer stretched his arms out above his head and then pulled Sam against his side once again. "Heaven is... different. The way that it once was is gone. Now there are factions and vendettas. Raphael and Michael's followers are still opposing each other and me."

"Is it hard for you to be home?"

"It is exceptionally hard. I want to be with you more than anything, but something keeps me there."

Sam laid his hand on Lucifer's chest. "Duty?"

Lucifer interlaced his fingers with Sam's and for a moment all was silent as they both watched their hands rise and fall with Lucifer's breaths. "No, not duty. You. I left my home behind long ago, and for all I care the other angels can battle it out alone, but you expect better of me, and so I oblige."

"I don't want you to be unhappy," Sam said. "If you do not want to be there, come back to me."

Lucifer shook his head. "I want to be the man you think I am. Besides, I have much to atone for. My time away from you, dealing with the problems of my family, is my penance."

"You don't have to do anything for me."

"But I do. You are my world, Sam, and you expect better of me. I am trying to live up to that."

"Okay." Sam understood in his own way. He had a lot to make up for, too. He had done a lot wrong in his life, and coming back from his personal heaven was a part of the penance he needed.

Sam looked at the clock. It was a little past three-am.

"You should go back to sleep," Lucifer said.

"But I don't want to waste any time with you."

"Sleep now, Sam. I will be here when you wake."

Sam felt Lucifer's fingers brush his forehead and before he knew what was happening, he was asleep.


Sam arrived at Bobby's house feeling refreshed. Although he had started the night on a bad note, Lucifer had eased him into a restful night's sleep.

Sam turned off the engine to the Chevelle and opened the door. He could see Dean on the porch, talking on the phone, his brow furrowed and his eyes tight. He nodded once and then ended the call. Sam climbed out of the car and walked over to him.

"What's up?" Sam asked.

Dean took a deep breath and then looked down at the phone in his hand. "Got a call from Bobby. It seems they've got a Leviathan on ice. They're on their way back now."

Sam's brows knitted together. "Panic room then?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, that should do it. We're going to need to experiment a bit. Maybe if we're lucky we can find something that can kill these suckers."

"Sounds like a plan, let's go." Sam rubbed his hands together and smiled.

Dean gave Sam an odd look and then nodded. "After you."

Half an hour later, Sam knelt down and checked the bolts that secured the chair to the floor as Dean set out a table full of various weapons and tools. Sam watched him for a moment and felt a chill go down his spine at the look of calm that had settled over Dean's expression. He looked peaceful as he ran a whetstone along the blade of a knife, serene even.

Dean looked over his shoulder, catching Sam watching him. "What?"

"Nothing, just thinking."

"About?"

Sam shrugged. "Everything. Nothing. The usual."

Dean nodded his understanding. "So we ready to do this?"

"I think so," Sam said, checking his watch. "Bobby and Cas should be here anytime."

Just then, there was a clattering upstairs and Bobby's voice calling out. "You boys home? We got you a present."

Sam stood and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Well, here goes nothing."

Dean nodded and they walked out of the room, greeting Bobby and Cas on the stairs.

They maneuvered the Leviathan into the chair and bound him in place. He was still unconscious but Sam doubted he would stay that way much longer. Sam double-checked the leather restraints and then stepped back, looking over at Dean. "So what now?"

"We either wait for him to wake," Dean said with a shrug, "or we wake him ourselves." He walked over to the table and picked up a knife. "I think a little pain could go a long way to doing just that."

Sam swallowed, a sick feeling in his gut unsettling him. He didn't like seeing this cool, calm Dean—the Dean that looked like he wanted to slice into the Leviathan just to see it bleed.

Dean grabbed a knife and walked over to the chair. Tilting his head to the side, he lowered the tip of the blade down to the Leviathan's arm. He pressed down hard and the blade broke the skin, just barely parting way for the cool metal. The Leviathan stirred. His head rose and he groaned. His eyes blinked open and he tensed, probably feeling the restraints. He tried to twist his body in the leather bonds, but the straps were secure. He wasn't going anywhere.

His gaze snapped to Sam and then to Dean.

Dean smiled. "Nice of you to join us. I'm Dean, and this is Sam. We will be your questioners today." He had the air of a hostess introducing herself.

The Leviathan scoffed. "Well, Dean, I'm Chet, and I will be the one eating you very soon." The skin where Dean had cut was already healing. Chet looked down at the wound and laughed. "You really think you can kill me, you puny, insignificant human?"

Dean narrowed his eyes and walked over to the table. He grabbed another knife and walked back to Chet's side. He twisted his neck and shoulders, cracking them loudly. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

Chet threw his head back and spit at Dean. Dean's grip tightened on the blade and he lunged forward, driving the brass blade deep into his chest. Chet jerked and twitched, but then as Dean withdrew the blade he smiled.

"That all you got?"

Dean drew a breath and smirked. "Oh no, we're just getting started."

Sam looked away. He knew he was being a coward, but he just couldn't bear to watch. Bobby and Castiel were standing in the doorway, and they both looked as uncomfortable as him.

"You be okay down here, Dean?" Bobby asked.

Dean turned back and grinned. "Yeah, we'll be just fine."

Bobby nodded towards the door and Sam and Castiel followed him up the stairs and into the study. Castiel moved to stand against the wall, and he stared around the room, absorbing it all but not speaking.

"Drink?" Bobby asked, lifting a bottle of whiskey from the table.

Sam shook his head and crossed into the kitchen. "I think I'll stick with beer." He took a cold one from the fridge and unscrewed the cap. He leaned back against the counter and watched Bobby as he poured himself a glass of whiskey and sipped at it.

"Something on your mind, son?"

"No," Sam said with a sigh. He didn't want to get into his worries about Dean with Bobby. It felt like a betrayal. Lucifer seemed to think it was important that Dean tell Sam himself. That didn't help Sam deal with what he'd just seen though.

"So you're not freaked out by your brother going full on inquisition down there?"

Sam shrugged. "We've got no choice. We have to find a way to kill them if we're going to win."

Bobby took off his cap and ran a hand through his hair. "You know, you've changed a hell of a lot since you came back, but you still can't hide shit from me. You're as freaked out as I am seeing Dean doing that again."

"Yeah," Sam admitted, "He takes to it a little too easily, but he's getting the job done."

Bobby stared at him, and Sam felt like he was seeing right through him and his false acceptance. He rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep pull of his beer.

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly," Bobby said.

Sam nodded his understanding. Bobby wasn't going to push him to talk about it, but he saw the change in Dean as clearly as Sam did.

"You didn't tell us," Sam said. "How did you trap the Leviathan?"

Bobby grinned. "We had a little help. Cas and I dealt with a couple of witches having a little marital spat. Just as we were busting out of town, Chet down there showed up. I thought we were both goners, but the man-witch showed up and took it down with a spell. He said it'd last a couple of days, so..."

"So we've got two days to take it out before we become lunch," Sam said.

Bobby nodded. "That's about it."

Sam sighed. "I guess I should take Dean down a drink. If we've only got a few days to work it, he's going to be busy."


"You really think that's going to work?" Chet asked as Dean leveled the gun at his head and adjusted his grip.

"Worth a shot," Dean said pulling the trigger.

There was a harsh cracking sound and Chet's head rocked back. "Whoo! Do it again! Come on, do it again!" he shouted.

Dean turned away, ignoring him completely, and put the gun down on the table.

"So you're just gonna touch me in the morning, then just walk away?"

Dean grimaced. "Are you still talkin'?"

"Aren't you sick of this yet?"

"You bleed. You bleed, you can die."

"Who told you that?" Chet asked, "Because whoever it was, they're a dumbass."

Dean gritted his teeth. It was his father that had told him that, and he wasn't taking kindly to this creature talking crap about him.

"Oooh, I hit a nerve," Chet said with obvious enjoyment. "Your Yoda was someone special, wasn't he? Who was it? Daddy?"

Dean pulled back a fist and punched Chet on the jaw. It had absolutely no effect on the Leviathan, he merely looked amused, but Dean felt it. He thought he had cracked a knuckle. He turned away and gritted his teeth, massaging his hand. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and a moment later Sam came into the room.

"You okay?" he asked, holding out a beer to Dean.

Dean took it and held the cold bottle against his sore hand. "Yeah, just fine."

Suddenly, Sam's eyes widened and a voice spoke behind Dean. "Oh, I don't know about fine, from what I'm seeing in here, you're anything but fine."

Dean spun on his heel and stared at... himself. The Leviathan looked exactly like him, down to the amulet resting against his chest.

"What the hell?" he said breathlessly.

Chet grinned. "Shapeshifting is one of my many talents. All it took was a little of your DNA—thanks for the punch by the way—and you're all mine to explore."

Sam stepped up to Dean's side, and when Dean turned, he saw Sam's face was white and his jaw tensed.

"Change back!" Sam ordered.

Chet laughed. "I don't think so, not when I'm having so much fun delving into your brother's memories. Boy, the things he's thought about you..."

"Shut your mouth!" Dean snapped.

Chet raised his eyebrows. "Ask nicely."

Dean's hands fisted at his sides, his sore knuckle protesting against the strain. Unless the Leviathan was bluffing, he was in serious trouble here. For the first time since he had come into the basement, he was scared. If the Leviathan had access to all his thoughts, he also had access to his memories. He could tell Sam everything, every secret he was holding close to his heart. He could tell Sam what he had spent the last two years doing, and why he had done it.

"Fuck you!"

"Now, Dean, you really should treat me with a little more respect. I'm the one holding all the cards here after all. You want me to start spilling your dirty little secrets?"

Sam looked from the Leviathan to Dean. "What's he talking about?"

"Nothing," Dean said. "Ignore it, Sammy. Actually, leave. Go upstairs."

Sam stiffened. Some internal battle was clearly raging within him, and Dean suspected he knew what it was. Sam clearly saw the changes in him, and now he was within reach of getting some answers.

"What's it going to tell me, Dean? Why won't you tell me yourself?"

"Because he's afraid," Chet said. "You see, Sammy, nothing matters more to Dean than what you think of him, and he scared I'm going to spill all his dirty little secrets."

"Sam, please," Dean said through gritted teeth. "Go upstairs."

Sam looked into his eyes, and Dean thought he was getting through to him. He couldn't let Sam be here for this, he couldn't have him find out what he'd done. The Leviathan was right, what Sam thought of him mattered more than anything, and he was in danger of losing his brother. If Sam knew what he had done, he would leave Dean again. He wouldn't stick around if he knew just how far Dean had fallen into the darkness. But then the Leviathan spoke, and Sam stiffened.

"You want to know what he thinks of you?" Chet asked. "You want to know what's changed? I know you can see it. He's not the brother you left behind, is he? He's different. Think how far he went taking out that demon. That's the least of what's he's done."

"Leave, Sam," Dean pleaded. "I'll tell you what you want to know, but let me be the one that does it, not that thing."

Sam stared into Dean's eyes, and then he nodded. "Okay."

He turned and walked swiftly to the door.

Seeing he was about to lose his audience, the Leviathan shouted, "He hates you, you know. After everything he did for you, you up and le—" The rest of its words were cut off as Dean picked up a machete from the table and swung it in a wide arc, decapitating the Leviathan. Its head landed on the floor with a thud and rolled so its eyes were staring up at the ceiling.

Dean looked down at the head and grinned, relief overwhelming him. "I guess that works."

He turned, expecting to see the same elation on Sam's face that he could feel on his, but Sam wasn't smiling. He was staring back at Dean with a solemn expression.

"Did you hear me?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, Dean. I heard."


So… How was that?

For those of you waiting on the next installment of the Brotherhood series I wanted to say I am working on C15 now and I will start posting just as soon as I can.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx