A/N: For those of you waiting for Sam's POV from the five missing days here is the first of it. As I wrote I realized there was a lot of ground to cover there. Sam told me it would be unfair to them as well as the reader to just try and slam it all into one chapter.

Lachrimae

Chapter Four

From The Highest Spire of Contentment, My Fortune Is Thrown

The sun was warm, streaming through the windows and lighting his face, making bright spots against his eyelids. The bed was exactly the right temperature, the soft covers just perfect. A gentle rumble came from beside his head. Stupid purring cat. Something warm and comforting was clasped around his hand. You had better let go of my hand before I'm all the way awake, Sam. Dean sighed.

"Awake?" Sam said softly from beside the bed.

"Nope," Dean said, opening his eyes. He glanced at the window, the light had the look of afternoon. "What time is it?"

"Around two, I think," Sam said, looking at him. "How do you feel?"

Dean met his brother's eyes. How much should I lie? Sam frowned at him. He might know I'm lying a little. Dean closed his eyes for a minute, looking inside, feeling the wound where it rested, black and cold, against his heart. He opened his eyes again. Sam's frown had deepened. "A little better, Sam."

"Really?" A slow smile spread across his brother's face.

"Really," Dean said. "Bryn's magic medicine, always helps. Nice to have a witch on our side, Sammy." He shifted around in the bed, getting a little more comfortable. Sam had stiffened, Dean saw the sudden tension in his brother's shoulders.

"Yeah." The word was heavy, full of other meanings.

"Okay, what?"

"What, what, Dean?"

Dean pushed himself into a sitting position. Sam automatically straightened the covers over his chest. "Thanks. Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

Are we going to play twenty questions? What do you think I mean? You didn't want to come here. Now that we are here, you are acting like a bear protecting her cub. He paused as the image of a fuzzy Sam played in his head. I have to stop that. So, Sam, out with it. What's going on? "You know what I mean. What's bothering you?"

"Other than the fact that you didn't bother to mention what was going on? Other than the fact that you were in the hospital yesterday? Other than the fact that…" Sam paused and dragged a hand through his hair. "They said end-of-life care, Dean."

"I know, Sam," Dean said gently. "But Bryn can fix it, she did last time." He gave Sam's arm a little squeeze. Sam's eyes looked a little wild. What's going on, Sam? "Does this have something to do with what happened last time?"

Sam sighed, a deep sad sound. "I was going to tell you earlier." He stood and paced to the window, looking out across the field beside the house. "I meant to tell you a long time ago."

"Sam, what?" Dean thought back to their last visit. "It has something to do with the time after I took the spell?" Sam still had his back to him, Dean could see the tension is his brother. "Come on, Sam. You never told me what happened."

"I never…"

"Yeah, when I woke up, you mentioned a little something, but you never really told me what happened."

"I mentioned a little something, Dean?" Sam's voice was calm.

"Yeah a little, not much, just that you had to give me another dose of the spell," Dean said, watching Sam.

"Just that little detail?" Sam said, still with his back turned, still with that calm voice. Dean noticed his brother's hands were shaking. Okay, here we go, any minute now.

"Yeah, just that."

"That tiny little detail? Sam said, finally turning around. "Just that? That little thing…" He took a deep breath.

"Sam?" I wonder if I should push him a little harder, we have to talk about this.

"That little thing where I gave you the dose of medicine…"

"Yeah that…" Oh boy, his face is really getting red. Run, Stupid Cat, run, Sammy's going to blow.

"The dose of medicine I was sure was going to kill you?" To Dean's surprise his brother's voice dropped to a mere whisper.

Oh, this is worse than I thought. "Uh huh." Man of few words when I need to be.

"Dean…"

"But it didn't Sammy, I got better." Well, mostly, except for the scar, except for the fact I am back here in this bedroom again.

"You don't understand," Sam said, his voice under complete control, although the volume was a little low.

"Then tell me." What's wrong?

"I can't." Sam looked away again, his voice still under tight control. Dean could hear the control slipping a little.

Okay, what's going on? Sam, come on. Is this why you are overreacting to Bryn? Why the cat hates you? What? Come on, Sammy. "Tell me."

"Dean…"

"Sam? Just tell me, you said you were, what, just get it out, okay?" Dean said, a little harsher than he intended. I'm getting worried here. Sam was shaking. "Sam?"

"I can't," the whisper was barely audible.

"Sam?" Oh, much, much worse than I thought it was. "Bryn told you it might kill me, you knew that when you gave me the second dose. But it helped, it cured me. It's okay, I already told you that."

"You don't understand, Dean."

"Then tell me," he repeated.

"I'm not sure…" Sam said calmly.

Then, with another calm breath, Sam exploded. He slammed his hand into the wall, he was shaking violently. He had turned away, pressing his hands and face against the back corner of the bedroom, gasping breaths racking his body.

"Sam!" Dean somehow got himself off the bed and grabbed his brother's shoulders. Sam struggled against him, but Dean held on, sure now that something dire was happening with his brother. "SAM!" He gave his brother a hard shake. Well as hard as I can manage right now. Sam was still looking wild, his eyes unfocused, tears pooled at the edges. His face was…Oh, god, that's guilt. Sam? What?!? "Sammy!" Dean swayed a little as the room did a spin. Not now, go away. He held onto Sam's shoulders to steady himself. The action brought his brother's eyes back into focus.

"Dean? What are you doing out of bed?"

"Not changing the subject on me, sorry," Dean said, still balancing himself with his hands on Sam's shoulders. "Out with it." His legs chose that moment to go out from under him. Damn, not now, Sammy first. Sam caught him and got him back over to the bed. He let Sam get him settled again, propping pillows behind his back and pulling the covers over him again. The cat watched Sam carefully from the other pillow at the head of the bed. Stupid cat.

Dean watched his brother as he fussed, trying to recall the conversation from months before when he had first woken up after taking a dose of medicine Bryn had brewed to deal with the onflyge. Five days, I was out five days and something happened. Something big. He concentrated. Sam had been agitated when I woke up, then the next time even more so, that's when he let out about the second dose, and how it might kill me, that's when…Hmmm. Let's see, he said he thought it would kill me…His brother's voice played softly in his head. "I even wanted it to at one point." Oh god, is that what this is about? Sam, why the hell didn't you tell me? "Sam?" He caught his brother's wrist and pulled him down to the edge of the bed. "Tell me."

Sam looked at him, the tears had made their escape and were trickling down his brother's face. "I wanted to tell you earlier. I tried, I…You felt safe here and it was me who…Dean I…"

"Sam?"

His brother took a deep breath. "I should have told you a long time ago…"

Nine Months Earlier

It was quiet for a moment. Sam looked away from his brother, to the dark window, the curtains moving a little in the warm breeze. No, Dean, no. Please don't say it. He looked back at his brother when Dean laid a gentle hand on his knee and gave it a little squeeze. "I'm not going to make it through the night, Sammy. I think you know that, too. If we don't try this, I'll be gone anyway."

"Dean, I just don't…" Suddenly this doesn't seem like a good idea anymore, Dean. I just don't know. Kill or cure, you heard her. And Dean? I'm not ready to say goodbye. He stopped, pulling a breath into lungs that didn't seem to be working right. Fear does funny things.

"Yeah, me, too." Dean tried to smile. It was his big brother nothing-to-worry-about smile. The one that appeared as something to worry about appeared as well.

The cat hopped back onto the bed. Sam turned. Bryn came back into the room carrying a heavy silver goblet. "Fancy cup," Dean said.

"Ritual cup," she said. "It's supposed to be fancy."

"That the stuff?" Dean asked. Sam could hear the undercurrent of fear in his brother's voice.

"Yes, it doesn't taste good, and I can't put anything in it to mask the flavor. It does have fennel in it, which helps, but the plantain, mugwort, yarrow and some other herbs kind of overpower the fennel."

"Not to mention the spell, right?" Dean tried for a little laugh. Nice try, Dean. Not fooling me though.

"Yes, but they don't really have a lot of flavor."

"Is it quick? I mean to put me out?" Dean asked, meeting Sam's eyes.

"Pretty quick, yes," Bryn said in her gentle voice.

"Ok, I'm ready." Dean reached for the cup. Sam noticed how badly his brother's hands were shaking. That's not just the poison. Oh, god, Dean, you're as terrified as I am, aren't you?

"Here, Dean, let me," Sam took the cup and slipped his arm behind Dean's back so he could sit up a little. He held the cup against Dean's lips. Dean was trembling as he took the dose, his muscles still tense with pain.

Sam felt Bryn take the cup out of his hand. "I'll be in the garden." She put a warm hand on his shoulder and then left them alone. Sam shifted onto the bed so he was sitting beside Dean. The cat settled on the end of the bed, looking at them. Dean looked at the cat and then over at Sam. "Stupid cat," Dean said, his voice a little thick.

"Yeah, Dean, stupid cat." Sam tried a laugh. That sounded a lot more like a sob. Sorry, Dean, trying to stay calm for you. It's really not working. Kill or cure, right? He felt Dean lean against him a little. His brother was beginning to relax, his eyes fluttering a little. Dean's head dropped to the side. Now that it's here, Dean, I'm a little panicked by it all. "Dean, I…I…" If this is goodbye, Dean. God, what can I say? Thank you? I'm glad we're brothers? I'll miss you? I…I…

"Yeah, Sammy, me, too." Dean's eyes had finally closed, his voice was vague.

"I'll see you in the morning, Dean."

"Yeah, I'll see you, Sam. In the morning." Dean sighed. "Sammy?"

"Dean?" He's afraid.

"Don't leave."

"Don't worry, Dean, I'll be here when you wake up." And Dean? Please wake up, okay? Sam felt his brother's hand come into contact with his. He looked down for a minute then took it in his, holding tight. Dean's hand curled around his. Dean was silent, his breathing slowing as the spell took effect. His hand remained curled around Sam's long after every other vestige of consciousness was gone.

Sam let his head rest against the headboard, still holding his brother's hand. Dean will kill me when he wakes up. A thought came, unbidden, unwanted. If he wakes up. No. No it has to be when. He has to make it. Sam sighed. The cat wandered up the bed and curled up beside Dean, resting a paw on his shoulder. Sam smiled. Dean and that cat. It is a little uncanny as cats go.

"Is he asleep?" Bryn said from the door.

Sam looked up. "Yeah." He swallowed. "How long?"

She came in the room and sat in the chair by the bed. "I don't know. As I said, the wound was old by the time I got to it, and it took me a long time to figure it out. I am so sorry about that."

"Will it work?"

"I hope so," she said with a gentle smile. "You should get some sleep, Sam. Dean won't wake up for several hours at least."

"I promised him I'd be here," Sam said, hearing the desperate note in his voice.

"I understand." She stood. "Help me move that big chair from the living room." She must have sensed his reluctance to leave Dean. "Pyewacket?" The cat looked up at her. "Come get me if there is any change, okay?" The cat blinked. Yeah, uncanny.

Sam slid carefully off the bed, as if he might accidentally wake Dean. He followed Bryn into the big room and the front of the house. She pointed at a large overstuffed chair with bright sprigged cotton. To Sam's surprise, she did help him drag the large chair back into the bedroom, moving the hardback chair beside the bed out of his way as he shoved the large chair in place.

Bryn left the room and came back in with another quilt, she handed it to him with a little smile. "Now, sleep. Pye will wake you, and me, if there is a change that we need to deal with."

"Do you think there will be?" Sam asked as he settled in the chair.

"Not tonight," she said gently and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder for a minute. Warmth flowed out from the touch. Weird how she does that. She smiled at him and left the room.

Sam leaned back in the chair, suddenly sleepy. I think she did something. I wonder if Dean's right about her? Witch? His eyes closed, even though he tried to fight it. Sleep claimed him and pulled him away. As he dropped off, he put his hand back over his brother's.

The change in the air woke him. The breeze had picked up and wafted the rich scents of the garden into the room. The sun was streaming through the curtains, warming the room. Somewhere in the house bread was baking and coffee was brewing. I wonder if she has air freshener that smells that way? Every morning baking bread and coffee. Sam opened his eyes, the morning still coming into focus. Dean.

His brother was still asleep, lying in the same position as he had been the night before. He is going to be stiff when he wakes up. Sam stretched and stood up, the cat looked at him. "I'm going to get coffee, I'll be back. If he starts to wake up, come get me." I'm glad Dean didn't hear me talking to the cat like that. Sam walked to the kitchen, the room was bright and warm. It does feel safe here. Dean's a little right about that.

"Good morning," Bryn said, smiling and handing him a cup of coffee. "Did you sleep?

"Yeah, thanks for that." Not sure how you did it, exactly, but thanks anyway.

"I thought you needed a little sleep, Sam. I hope you don't mind. I didn't think you'd sleep otherwise."

"No, you were right," he smiled at her. "He hasn't moved at all." The worry crept into his voice. "He's usually a restless sleeper."

"This isn't a natural sleep, it's almost like sedation. His body has to be slowed down for the spell to work."

"I remember from class," Sam said with a sad little grin. "It was a little like that with Jess."

"A little. Her illness was organic, so it didn't need as much of the other," Bryn said gently. "What's wrong?" she said. Sam looked over, the cat had come into the room. "Coming." She followed the cat back to Dean's room.

Dean had shifted a little. A moan escaped his lips as they walked into the room. Sweat had beaded on his forehead. He moaned again. It was a sound of fear, of pain, it echoed through the room. Bryn walked to the bed and put a hand on his head, her eyes closed. Sam watched her for a minute, a frown had appeared on her face.

"Sam? In my study on the shelf there is a dark blue bottle, can you go get it?" she asked. He hesitated. Why can't you go get it? "I need to stay here," she said without opening her eyes. "Please, Sam, we need it."

Something in her tone frightened him. He walked down the hallway and into the study. The room faced the garden, the sun was filtering in and the scents of the warmed earth and dried herbs assailed his senses. There was a shelf, covered with a myriad of bottles, to his left as he walked into the room. Sam ran his eyes over the shelf. Red bottles, purple bottles, some with liquid some with powders. He wasn't sure how he knew which bottle to grab, but his hand closed over a medium size dark blue bottle with a silver stopper. He carried it back with him.

"What's in it?" he said as he handed it to her.

"It's a variation of the swamp muck, something to help without interfering with the other spell. Hold his head, please."

Sam held Dean's head as she patiently gave his brother the medicine one drop at a time, waiting till Dean swallowed before giving him another dose. Sam had no idea how long it took. He was focused on the pain-soaked groans coming from his brother. He seemed to be only aware of the trembling of Dean's muscles as his body fought an unknown foe. Finally, seemingly years later, Dean started to relax again. The groans became a soft whisper, then nothing. Dean dropped back into the soundless, unmoving sleep.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, his voice harsh, demanding.

"The onflyge is fighting my spell. I told you it was an old wound when I got to it."

"Can you…Will you be able to…?"

"We just need to wait, Sam. I know it's hard. Waiting is always the hardest part. Come out and eat something. Pye will let us know if something happens." She pulled on his hand, tugging him out of the room and back to the sunlit kitchen.

He sighed and looked out the window at the intricate gardens, the trees bordering the back and the iron fence around the property, all holding the things he and Dean hunted at bay. Nothing could get into the property. No demons, no ghouls, no werewolves, the list went on, the simple answer was nothing could touch them there, they were safe.

He remembered the look on Dean's face when his brother had told him that they were safe there and pointed out the things that made it so. Safe, he said it with such longing. There were tears in his eyes, he'd never admit to them, but they were there. Has he never felt safe? All these years? God, Dean, I'm sorry.

A gentle hand closed over his. "What is it, Sam?"

He looked down at Bryn. "I was just thinking about when Dean showed me your garden, he said he was safe here."

"He is, you both are."

"But the way he said it…" Sam swallowed. "I never realized he didn't feel safe." Why am I telling her all this? It feels weird, but it feels okay, natural even.

"Why not?" She met his eyes, searching, it felt like she could see parts of him even he couldn't.

"I…" He paused, thinking about it. Why not? Why did it never occur to me. He looked at her. "I guess it's because I always felt safe." Never thought about it, but that's true. Isn't it. Dean told me I was safe and that was enough.

"Because of your brother?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "I never really thought about it before, but yeah. Dean told me when I was little I was safe and I was. I never thought about how it was for him, you know. Never safe. He said never one moment, you know. And thinking about it now…"

"Yes?"

"I don't know." He shrugged and let his eyes drift over the gardens.

"Go out in the sun, Sam. Sit for a minute or weed. I'll come get you if Dean needs you. I'll go sit with him." She smiled at him and shoved him towards the door before she turned and walked to the bedroom.

She shoves me around a lot. Sam walked out the backdoor into the sun-drenched gardens. His feet carried him to the edge of the garden, a path covered in ground-hugging plants. As he walked, crushing the leaves, a rich fragrance surrounded him, mint and something that smelled almost like apples. I should ask her what that is. The walk was pulling the tension from his shoulders.

He stopped about halfway around the garden, suddenly realizing the twists and turns of the path were a labyrinth. "A labyrinth can function for protection or for intention, a physical prayer as it were," Bryn's voice said in his head, a remembered moment from the seminar years before. He continued to walk, around the edge of the garden, following the path, stopping to touch some of the plants. Recognizing them from research. I need to see if she'll let us take some with us, these could be handy, and people would stop looking at me weird when I went into stores looking for them. Let's face it, things like true verbena officinalis and alecost are hard to find.

Finishing the walk, he sat down on the bench Dean had been sitting on the day before. The one he got up from when he went to talk to Bryn about arrangements for after he died. Damn it Dean, what were you thinking? Calmly making arrangements like that and not letting me in on them at all? If something like this ever comes up again and you try that? I'll…I'll…I don't know, Dean. But maybe you should let me in on things now and then.

A touch on his hand pulled him away from his musings. The cat had hopped up on the bench and was looking at him. "You need me to come with you?" The cat jumped down and walked towards the house. That's a little unnerving.

Dean was groaning again, shifting on the bed. "Do I need to hold him again?" Sam said, walking to the head of the bed. Bryn had her hand on Dean's chest this time, her mouth was moving, Sam caught a tiny bit of…Latin maybe?

"Think you can manage to give it to him for a minute?" She looked at Sam.

"Yeah." What's going on, this isn't good. He slid onto the bed and propped Dean up against him, carefully giving Dean the medicine drop by drop. Dean was fighting hard, his body flinching from each dose.

"Sam…" Bryn said quietly when Dean had finally relaxed.

"It's not working," he said, the statement flat, harsh. No, oh god, no.

"It's a harder fight than I thought, it still could work."

"Can you give him another dose of the spell he took last night?"

"No," she said simply.

"Why not."

"It will kill him."

What? No. Please no. Please tell me there is something we can do. Dean? What do I do now?

Present

"Sammy?" Dean said, sudden pain pulling him back to the room, away from his brother's memories. "Sammy?" He grabbed Sam's arm and gave it a little shake. Sam was still staring back at the past, tears running down his face. "Sam!"

Sam focused on him. "What?" He brushed the tears off his face. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Dean said. I need to get him out of here before I scream.

"What's wrong, Dean?" Sam said, looking at him.

"I just thought you should go eat or something," he said, smiling. And I thought you might need a break from that place you were in, Sammy. Don't think I am letting it slide, just giving you a little break. "Send Bryn back to sit with me." I need her, Sam. Please.

"Is everything okay?"

"Sure. Take the cat with you. Hear me, cat? Go sit with Sammy, send Bryn back." The cat looked at him and touched his face with an outstretched paw, claws out. He felt the tiniest prick in his face. "I'm okay, both of you. Go eat."

The cat hopped off the bed and walked to the door, looking back at Sam. "Are you sure, Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam, we can talk more when you get back." He schooled his face as the black spot suddenly ground against his heart, sending a shaft or pure, blinding pain into his brain. Ouch. At least wait until Sam is out of the room, okay? It twisted again, almost in answer. He knew Sam was watching him. Go, Sam.

"If you're sure, Dean."

"Yeah." He grinned. "Go eat, maybe bring something back with you." Sam gave him another long look and left the room. As soon as he was gone Dean ground his teeth together as another wave of pain lashed out from the wound. Damn. I don't have long do I? I need to talk to her now, I have to know.

"How bad is it?" A gentle hand settled on his forehead. Hey, when did I close my eyes?

"Bad."

"I guessed that, when both Sam and Pyewacket showed up in the kitchen."

"Stupid cat," he said. Wow, I sound good. I'm glad I got Sam out of here.

"Drink this," she held a cup to his lips. "More slime." Then her hand was on his chest, calming the twisting of the wound. A numbing warmth was moving down from her hand.

"Before I'm out…?" I have to know, I have to.

"Yes?"

"I wanted to ask you, about what happens if you can't fix this, if I die here."

"Because of the deal?"

"You know about that?" Consciousness was slipping away.

"It caused a ripple." Her voice was full of gentle irony.

"Well? If I die here, because it is protected so well—Bolted as you put it?"

"The answer is yes, Dean. If you die here, of natural causes, they can't take you."

He let himself relax, at peace. The gentle dark was reaching for him, pulling him away. He was comforted, safe.

I know now and I was right to try and get here.

How do I tell Sam I…? How can I tell him?

Now that I know…

It changes everything.

To Be Continued