Lachrimae
Chapter Six
Exiled forever, let me mourn
The room was silent. Dean could hear the tiny hum of the light bulb in the bedside lamp. Sam was looking at his hands, tears running down his face. He seemed unaware of the fact, just as he seemed unaware his hands were shaking. Sammy…God, Sammy. I was that bad? Will I be that bad again? Sam, I can't put you through that again. I can't, it wouldn't be fair to you.
"I can't make that decision again," Sam said quietly.
"God, Sammy, why didn't you tell me?" Dean said, looking at his brother. Damn, why didn't you tell me? You can't walk around with things like that weighing on you.
"I gave you the spell so you could die, Dean."
"You told me that then. And I stand by what I said. I trust you with my life."
"But it's still there, and now it's worse again. It was all for nothing, I just postponed it, that's all."
"Sam…"
"Don't say it, Dean. I've been listening to that for too damn long. Don't say I just have to accept it."
"You might not have a choice, this time." I might just die here, nothing we can do about it. And that's okay, Sam. We're safe here, our last few days—hours?—can be together. Without everything else. It's why I wanted to come here.
"We need to talk," Bryn said, coming back into the room. "I need to do a little more research, but…"
"A little more?" Sam snapped, back in full mother bear mode. "Do you know what it is?" She looked from Sam to Dean, the bleak look in her eyes. "What aren't you telling us?"
"Sam!"
"It's okay, Dean," she said, dropping into the chair by the bed. "He's right."
"Right about…?"
"I haven't told you everything."
"What?" Sam said, his voice was suddenly calm, icy, shaking a little. The cat rose and walked over towards Sam, its fur on end. Not again. I'm going to have to separate those two. "What do you mean?" Sam asked quietly. Dean noticed his brother's hands were shaking a little too.
"I need to research a little to find a spell to help, but I know…" She looked at Dean, for the first time since he had met her he could sense a little desperation, even panic in her voice, in the look she cast at him.
"What?" Dean said quietly, before Sam could explode.
"It's my fault," she said, a tear slipping down one cheek.
"What?" Sam hissed, the cat answered him in the same tone.
"I'm so sorry," she said, putting her head into her hands for a minute.
"You should be." Sam was looking across the bed, fire in his eyes.
"What?" Dean said to Bryn. "What's your fault?"
She looked up at him. "What happened to you, the wound getting worse, then when it…"
"When it attacked me? Took the charm?" Dean said, watching her, still aware of his brother and the cat bristling beside him. Comprehension suddenly dawned. "It was, is, looking for you."
"What?" Sam said, calm.
"Yes, I think so," Bryn said.
"It's what you ran from, why you're here." Dean looked at her, then over at Sam. You look like your head is about to explode, there, Sammy.
"I think so," she said again.
"Can you fix this?" Dean needed to know, not really sure of which answer he wanted.
"What is it?" Sam said in the same instant.
Bryn looked from one to the other. "I don't know if I can fix it. I need to research a little. It would have to be a two-part spell. And it's a Wight."
"Wight?" Dean said, frowning.
"Like a Barrow Wight?" Sam asked. Dean looked at him. "Tolkien, Dean?"
"I saw the movie."
"Yes, like a Barrow Wight. A little. I think he was making the wound worse to follow the spell I gave you to the charm. And then he took the charm away, hoping to force you back here so he could follow you. He can't see in here, but if you are here, he knows I am, too."
"I was bait or something?"
Bryn snorted gently at his irritated tone. "Maybe. I am so sorry. I will do my best to find an answer for you." She looked at Dean.
"Assuming I want one?"
"Yes." She smiled at them both, relief in her eyes. "I'll have something for you in a little while."
"Dean," Sam said when she had left.
"Sammy, I know. I understand. We don't even know if she can help, yet."
"Will you let her?" Sam still looked a little wild.
I don't know, Sam. If I die, no hell. If I live, then hell's waiting. Can't we just stay here?
"Dean?" The wound gave a twist, hard enough to force the air out of his lungs. Damn, not so soon. Sam noticed the change on his face. "Are you alright?"
"Not really, no." He grinned, trying to ignore the tears leaking from his eyes. Just like pulling a nose hair out. Yipes. Not fun. And how can I hide it from Sam with stupid tears on my face?
"Do you want me to get her?"
"Don't leave yet, Sam." I'm not sure how long I'm going to last, actually, and want to spend a few minutes with you. "What was that?" Something sounded like an explosion from outside. Sam rose and went to the window.
"It's the wight, I think, trying to breach the protection. Quite a light show," Sam said, looking out the window.
Dean dragged himself out of bed, over to where Sam was standing. He looked out across the dark gardens just as a bolt of something sent fiery streaks of lightning along the fence line. "Like 'Forbidden Planet'," Dean said with a smirk.
"What are you doing out of bed?"
"Looking out the window, Sam. Maybe while I'm up we can go get some coffee? You could help me to the kitchen?" He knew he couldn't make it all the way there and back, but somehow the warm kitchen was calling him, and the urge to not be in bed was getting overwhelming.
"Sure, Dean." Sam helped him down the hall and set him in a chair in the kitchen. The room was warm, the smell of food still lingering in the air. The cat came in and hopped on the table beside Dean.
"Stupid cat," he said, petting it while he watched Sam make coffee. It will be okay. He'll be okay here after I die. I'll hang around to make sure, but he'll be okay. And haunting the stupid cat still seems like fun. Sam put a cup of coffee down in front of him and sat across from him with his own cup.
"I'm not ready to lose you, Dean," Sam said suddenly.
What do I say to that? You might not have a choice? I'm dying, Sam, and there might not be a way to stop it? If I want to? See that's the problem, I'm not sure I want to. No hell, Sam. Safe here and no hell. He had grown quiet, letting the thoughts play in his head, listening to the dark spot in his chest telling him he was a dead man already. His hands were shaking, the cup seemed heavy in his hands. He closed his eyes for a minute as the room spun around him.
"Dean?" Sam's voice was soft, worried.
"Yeah?" His mouth tasted weird and there was something soft under his head. In fact something soft under my whole body. When did I get back to bed?
"How do you feel?"
Dean opened his eyes. Yep, bedroom. What happened? His brother looked very worried. What's wrong, Sammy? Passing out in the kitchen doesn't deserve that look does it? "Like owls nested in my mouth."
Sam laughed a little at that. It sounded kind of like a sob. "Owls? We gave you some of the medicine again. Bryn thinks she has an idea of how to treat the wound the wight gave you."
"How?" I don't like that look. That's the "determined to save me no matter how suicidal look" he gets sometimes. I bet I look like that sometimes, too. Hmm. Never thought about that.
"I need to get the blade, then she can make a spell to break the wound, at least that part."
"No. No, you are not going after that thing, Sam."
"It's the only way, Dean."
"You can let me die," Dean said gently. Sam, you might get killed and how does that make anything better?
"No, not yet, Dean. Not yet. Let me try this."
"You don't even know if it will work, or if she can fix the other thing." Sammy, no, are you hearing me? No, I am saying no.
"I am going to do this, Dean. You have to let me try. Please."
"Sam…" Dean paused. How much can I tell him? Will it change anything? Will he still leave me? Sam…Sam, you see…
"What?"
"I don't want to die alone, Sammy. Please."
"I'll be back, Dean."
"I don't think I have all that long." And you might get yourself killed, Sam.
"I'll be back, Dean. It won't take long, I'm just going out to the fence and asking him for the blade."
"Well, that sounds easy." Yeah, easy. Really easy. No, Sam. You can't, don't leave. "Take the Colt."
"I can't, Dean," Sam said, looking away. Sammy?
"Why not?"
"I can't kill it. If it dies, I guess the blade dies too and Bryn can't use it."
"The knife dies?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "The freaking knife dies?"
"That's what Bryn said. She gave me something to wound the wight, an arrow." Sam had a funny smile on his face. Cause you know what I'm going to say, don't you Sammy?
"A magical arrow? Do you have the magical bow, too?"
"I was going to use one of ours, Dean."
"Sammy…" This is nuts, no, no just stay, let me go. Be with me.
"I have to try, Dean. I'd use a dart gun, but she doesn't think a dart will work, it needs a bronze tip."
"A magical, bronze-tipped arrow? No, Sam." No, I said no, hear the no?
"I have to try. Please." The desperation in Sam's eyes touched him. I would have to try, too, I would never just let him go. I wouldn't no matter how much he wanted it. I would try everything before that happened.
Dean took a deep breath. "Sam…Alright, go, but hurry back, please?" Please, Sam?
"I won't let you die alone."
"Promise me, Sam?"
"Promise, Dean."
This is harder on him than me. I'm ready, I want to rest, I want peace. He has to try and save me. How can I help a little? There's always deflect the chick flick. He'd never know what made him say it, some memory of some bad movie watched late on a sleepless night. He grinned at his brother. "Pinkie swear?" He held out his hand.
"What?" Sam rolled his eyes, then smiled, accepting the gesture for what it was. "Pinkie swear." He caught Dean's pinkie in his. "I'll be right back."
"Sure, Sammy," Dean said, looking down the bed at the cat. "Will you go with Sam for me?" The cat hopped of the bed and waited at the door. "Don't be too long."
"I won't, Dean." His brother gave his arm a quick squeeze. "I have the stupid cat to help." The cat hissed at him.
"I think I'm the only one who gets to call him that."
"Fine, let's go Pyewacket," Sam smiled at him.
"Be careful, Sam."
"I will Dean, get some sleep while I'm gone okay?"
"Sure, Sam."
XXX
Sam walked down the hallway and into the kitchen. He'd left the bow and the arrows Bryn had given him there. She was waiting there as well, quiet, a concerned smile on her face. The cat hopped onto the table, she ran her hands over it and smiled, first at the cat and then at Sam. "Pyewacket is going with you."
"Yeah, Dean asked him to," Sam said with a shake of his head. The cat disturbs me sometimes.
"Good, he can help." She walked over and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, the now familiar warmth flowing out from the touch and into his body. "Are you sure you want to try this?"
"I have to. I don't have a choice." He looked at her, meeting her eyes. "I have to try. I understand, but I have to try."
"I understand, too, Sam. I really do," she said a little sadly. "And I will do everything I can to make this right. I am so sorry."
"Thank you." Sam looked at her. "Can you keep him here until I get back?" Yes, I know what I'm asking. I know what I just asked you to do. "I promised him I wouldn't let him die alone."
"I can keep him here. He should be okay for awhile, but if not, I can keep him here for you." She sighed. "Not for long, but long enough. I give you my word."
"Thank you," he repeated. Sam picked up the bow and arrows, a sense of calm well-being warming his body. "You ready?" he said to the cat, then laughed at himself a little. Dean will laugh for days about that. Dean? Be around for days to laugh at me. He walked out the back door and closed it behind him, giving it a little slam to let Dean know he'd left.
It was cold, his breath visible in the air. The lightning was streaking along the outer fence line, he could hear it crackling and fizzing as he moved through the dark garden. The cat slipped under the first fence as Sam jumped over it, landing lightly on the other side. She said I can't shoot through the protection of the second fence. I have to go over. I need to be careful, I have to get this to save Dean. Of course, if I don't get it, if I die, he dies there, safe and no hell. No, Dean, not yet. You have time left, I will find another way. A way for you to be here with me. Not as a ghost driving the poor cat insane, but here, physically.
He walked through the field towards the outer fence, the dead grass wet with dew, sticking to his shoes and pant's legs. I can't let him die, not yet. I can't. What if she can't help him? Dean did you know that when you came? Did you talk to her? Is there no way to save you? No, I'm here and she said this might work. It has to. He reached the outer fence and paused. The wight was just at the edge of the small forest that bordered Bryn's land. Sam jumped over the fence, the cat went under.
The wight stopped its probing of the fence and turned to face him. "Come to play?"
"Not really," Sam said, notching an arrow in the bow. The wight dove at him, knocking him down, the arrow dropping from his hand. He thought he felt something in his arm, then shoved the wight away, reaching for the other arrow. The creature came at him again as he struggled to sit up. It had the knife out. Sam tried to get the other arrow notched when suddenly the wight was down on the ground, its knife dropping into the grass, Pyewacket, fur all on end, standing on its back. Sam grabbed the knife and stood. The wight grabbed his ankle and he fell, but he was up again and dashing for the outer fence a few seconds later. The cat was right behind him and then they were inside the fence. Sam heard the wight shriek in fury. A bolt of lightning slammed against the outer fence, an odd creaking noise filling the air. He kept going, not sure how strong the outer fence was. The cat slid under the inner fence and Sam leapt over, on the way over he caught his foot and went down hard, stars dancing briefly before everything was dark.
XXX
Dean let his eyes close as his brother walked out of the room. When he heard the back door slam he dragged himself out of bed and over to the window. Hey, I made it, I wonder if that means I'm a little better? He watched the dark shape of his brother as he moved across the gardens to where the sprays of lightning were dancing over the outer fence. He saw Sam jump easily over one fence and then the second. Dean stood, staring into the night, seeing flashes of two shapes moving outside the light, out in the woods that bordered the property. Be careful, Sam. The lightning suddenly stopped. Dean saw the tall figure of his brother running for the fence, he was over and moving to the second fence when something hit the area out beyond the fences hard, the flash of electricity moving along the length of the fence line. Just like "Forbidden Planet". Monsters from the Id. Sadly no Anne Francis bathing nude in the pool.
He realized that Sam wasn't moving through the gardens. Dean managed to get himself down the hall and out the door. Sam had made it over the inner fence, Dean could make out the dark outline of his brother's body on the ground. He forced himself over. The cat was sitting beside Sam, licking his face.
"Sammy?" He shook his brother. Sam groaned a little. "Stupid cat. Sammy?"
"Dean? What's wrong with my face?" Sam said, opening his eyes.
"The cat is cleaning your wounds," he said, laughing at the look in his brother's eyes.
"Gross," Sam said, trying to sit up. His eyes focused on Dean. "What are you doing out here?"
What do you think, Sam? I saw you fall and I came? What the hell do you think? "What happened? Are you hurt?"
Sam gave a small embarrassed laugh. "I caught my foot on the way over the fence." He sat up, absently patting the cat.
Good job, Sam. You deserved the cat first-aid for scaring me like that. "Did you get it?"
"Yeah," Sam said, brushing blood off his face. He held up the glowing blade.
"Cool." Dean reached out for the blade.
"No, Dean, stop," Bryn called from behind him. Sam snatched the blade away, Dean's hand never came into contact with it. At least he was sure it hadn't. He was suddenly falling, darkness exploding out from the thing on his chest, radiating up the arm that had reached for the knife.
"Dean!" Sam caught him.
"Cold, Sammy," he said into the dark.
"Hang on, I'll get you inside." He felt himself lifted, he felt the change in the air as Sam carried him into the house. He was aware of the bed under him and Bryn's hand on his chest, warmth flowing out from it, driving the cold away.
"Sleep, Dean, it's okay," Sam's voice said in the void. I am sleepy, Sam. "I'll be here," Sam said quietly.
"Promise?" he managed to whisper.
"Yeah, I pinkie swore remember?" Sam said. "Can you help him?"
"I have the blade, I'll do my best."
"Sam?" Sam, if it doesn't work, let me go.
"It's okay, Dean. I know. I promise, not alone."
"Sam?" He hardly heard his voice that time. The dark was pulling him away as the pain rose against his chest.
"I promise that, too, Dean."
He sighed as his brother's hand closed over his, letting the dark take him, relaxing into the pain-free void.
The hand was still there, warm, comforting, as he came slowly awake. How long was I out, I wonder? The cat was on the bed, he could feel a soft paw resting against his face. Stupid cat. They gave me something again. Why does it all have to taste so bad? Can't they cover it with chocolate like Miracle Max?
"Sam?"
"Dean, are you awake?"
"Yep." He opened his eyes. "Have you slept?" Because you look terrible.
"Not yet, I was waiting to see what Bryn could do first." Sam sighed. "I went back to see how it was going when the cat showed up. She is having a hard time with it."
"It's okay, Sam." Sam? You look terrible, what's going on?
"No, Dean, no it's not." His eyes filled with tears. "No."
"Sam, this might have to happen. And Sammy, no hell." He heard the longing note in his own voice.
"Dean, please don't make me choose."
"I won't." My choice, Sam. Even if she finds an answer I'm still not sure what the choice will be. No hell, Sam. And you don't die and you can be here, safe. I'm tired, Sammy. I've told you that, maybe you don't understand, but I can't keep going sometimes. I think I want this. I need this.
"It's more than just live or die, Dean, the choice. It's, god…"
"Yeah, die and save my soul, save my life and lose my soul."
"Dean, please, give me a little more time to save you. I can, please."
"There might not be a choice anyway. She might not be able to fix this. I might die before she can. I don't have long, Sammy."
"I know." Sam looked at him.
"And Sammy, saving me? Saving my soul? It can happen here." Dean met his eyes, pleading a little.
"I'm not ready to lose you, Dean. I can't."
"Sam…"
"No."
"Sam, please."
"No, Dean. We have to wait for Bryn. At least that long."
"If I can, Sam. I'll wait."
"For me."
Unfair, Sammy. "Okay." Unfair. I want to rest, Sam. Peace. NO HELL. Sam, don't you see? "I'll wait."
Sam settled on the bed beside him. "Dean, if…"
"Promise?" You asked me once for this, Sam. You made me promise. And there was no hell involved that time.
Sam took a deep breath, "Oh, god, Dean." Sam looked at him for a long moment. "Yeah, I promise."
The sat together, waiting, each silent, each lost in thought. The cat left, disappearing into the dark hallway.
If she comes back with an answer what will I do? Sam? Will you be ready to let me go? He sighed and leaned a little against Sam and waited.They had been silent together for a long time when Sam chuckled beside him, a soft sound, a little tear-filled, but a chuckle nonetheless. "What?" Dean said.
"I don't know why I thought of it, but remember the first time I got really drunk?" Sam asked, looking over, a small smile on his face.
I know why you thought of it, I remember what happened right before that. You thought I had been killed, but you saved my life, I remember you kept saying "I thought you were dead." And you went back to the room and when I came in you were already well on the way to drunk. "Yeah, I remember."
"You sat down and drank with me, although I don't think you were drunk?"
"Maybe a little, Sam." He smiled at his brother, the memory of sixteen-year-old Sam drunk, chattering away, playing in his head. "Not much, though."
"I remember waking up the next morning with this headache. But I was in bed and my shoes were off. You came in a little later with coffee and aspirin, and you were very quiet until it kicked in. I remember feeling, I don't know." He looked away.
"What, Sam?" Dean said.
"It was one of those times when I felt safe, Dean, protected." Sam sighed. "I…" He stopped himself, absently rubbing his arm.
"Sam?" Dean was watching his brother. Something's wrong. "What's wrong?"
Sam smiled, it was a sad, sad smile. "Nothing, Dean."
The cat wandered back in and walked up the bed, first peering at Sam and then coming to sit beside Dean. Bryn came in a few moments later with a tray, the silver chalice and a crystal one with blood-red liquid in it, on the tray. She set the tray one the bedside table and smiled gently at them.
"That the answer?" Dean asked, looking at the cups.
"It might be. The silver one is for the old wound, similar, but not the same as the first spell for the onflyge, since it needs to be able to work with the spell for the damage the wight did."
"Will it work?" Sam said, hope and fear in his voice.
"I don't know."
"If it doesn't…Will I wake up?" Dean looked at her, meeting her eyes. And which would be easier for Sam? Waking up or just dying?
"I don't know."
Dean looked at Sam. What do I do? If I die, no hell, Sammy. No hell. I can stay here. "Sam?"
"I…I…" Tears pooled in his brother's eyes. "Please."
Dean sighed. "Okay, let's try it." He felt Sam's hand close convulsively on his arm.
"It's two parts, you take the first and then we wait for seven minutes before you take the other. You'll probably be most of the way under by then, just aware enough to drink the second part."
"There's more," Dean said with certainty.
"The second part, as it works with the wound, it might be a little rough." She was looking at Sam as she said it. Dean saw his brother pale.
"How rough?" Sam whispered.
"It's been awhile since I dealt with this personally. But…you should be prepared."
"Let's just do it," Dean snapped. The longer we wait, the more my resolve slips. No hell, Sam, do you know what that's like? Giving that up? He reached a shaking hand for the silver cup before either could stop him and drank it in one gulp.
"Dean!"
"Sorry, couldn't wait." I was losing my nerve suddenly, Sam. Sorry, but if we are going to do this, I have to do it now, before…No hell, Sam. Oh, god, no hell. I had to do it before I couldn't. I will fight for you, but Sam… It was already affecting him, the room was getting hazy at the edges. It felt a little familiar, a light floating sensation. His body felt light, disconnected a little from his brain. His eyes closed. He was aware of Sam's hand on his arm. They were talking quietly, Sam and Bryn, the cat was a heavy weight beside his head. How long has it been? The thought formed and drifted lazily across his mind like clouds on a summer day.
Suddenly his head was lifted, something cold and hard was against his lips. "Drink, Dean," Sam's voice ordered gently. He obeyed, the liquid sliding down his throat, he could feel it as it moved outwards through his body, warming, streams of light streaking through him, until it reached the wound. The light hit the dark spot like a truck running into a wall. His body reacted, he thought he felt it a little, he was a long way from his body. Sam's hand was still there, warm, against his arm.
I wonder what she meant by rough? Should I have done it? What about Sam? No, Sam would want me to try, no matter how rough. He wants me to make it out of here. No hell, Sam. I could still die, I guess. Sam? I trust you. What's that? It sounded like a harsh voice, crying out in pain. Sam? Are you okay? The cry went on. Sam?
"No!" the pain filled voice screamed. Sammy? Are you okay?
"Dean, relax, let the spell work, let it take you. Stop fighting it. Please, Dean, give it a chance," Sam's voice, calm, an edge of panic, of fear very much there.
Fighting it? I thought I was giving it a chance. The voice cried out again. Is that me? Oh, god, Sammy, I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have to go through that again. I…You're right, I was fighting it. I'm sorry, Sam. I'll try and give it a chance.
He let go.
He let go of everything—his body, his mind, the gently intoxicating promise of escaping hell. He let it all go and listened to Sam.
The spell took him into the dark.
To Be Continued