Here we go, the last chapter! XD I just want to say, even if there's only one person reading this, thank you so much for sticking with me! You have no idea how much I appreciate it. This fic was a bitch to finish, but I did it for you!
Can I clear my conscience,
If I'm different from the rest
Do I have to run and hide? (Oh oh oh oh)
I never said that I want this
This burden came to me
And it's made it's home inside (Oh oh oh oh)
If I told you what I was
Would you turn your back on me?
And if I seem dangerous
Would you be scared?
I get the feeling just because
Everything I touch isn't dark enough
If this problem lies in me
I'm only a man with a candle to guide me
I'm taking a stand to escape what's inside me
A monster, a monster
I've turned into a monster
A monster, a monster
And it keeps getting stronger
-"Monster" by Imagine Dragons
"Crowley? What the fuck are you doing here?" Dean snarled. He turned his glare to Sam. "What the fuck is he doing here?"
"Your brother-slash-lover here summoned me, begging oh so prettily, to find a cure for your little problem." Crowley stopped in front of Sam and stroked a finger across his cheek. He appeared more amused than anything at Dean's answering growl. "What, 'fraid your brother might finally come to his senses and fall for the bigger, badder, demon?"
"Cut it out, Crowley." Sam snapped and pushed Crowley out of his personal space. "I summoned you to cure him, not piss him off even more."
"You actually summoned this douche?" The look of betrayal on Dean's face nearly made Sam fall to his knees begging for forgiveness. Lucifer and Michael's torture hurt less. For a moment Dean looked so broken, before schooling his features back into a glare.
"Dean, it's not like that-"
"Then how is it, Sam?" Dean roared, baring his teeth. "Because it sure fucking looks like you're working with Crowley, of all people, to find some mythical cure that does not exist."
Sam had to look away from the abyss of his brother's black eyes, unable to defend himself from Dean's accusatory glare. Demon or not, Dean was in pain and he was the cause of it. Again. He remembers what it was like to be scared and alone while fighting part of your very being that threatened to overwhelm you, and feeling like the whole world was your enemy. Lashing out anyone that claimed to want to help because you were doomed anyway, right? Why couldn't they just see that they were wasting their time?
And because he knows first-hand what it's like, Sam won't let Dean make the same mistakes he did. He will not let his brother down one more time.
"It does exist, actually."
Both Winchesters whirled around to face Crowley in disbelief. The King of Hell casually poured himself a few fingers of whiskey from the bottle left on the end table.
"You have the cure?" Sam demanded.
"That I do, my adorably confused Moose."
Sam grit his teeth. "Care to share with the class?"
"Well, since you asked so nicely… can you get him to shut up? I can barely hear myself monologue." Crowley gestured to where Dean stood under the Devil's Trap swearing up a storm. "Maybe stick him in that cozy sex dungeon of yours?"
"We are not putting him in the dungeon! He isn't a prisoner here—shut up Dean, you're not slitting his throat. Right now."
Crowley rolled his eyes and continued on as if he hadn't been so rudely interrupted. "I have the cure. Found it in an old recipe book of my mother's, handed down for generations. Quite anticlimactic, really." He took a graceful sip from his glass while staring at Sam pointedly. "Should be easy. Light up some smelly herbs, say the magic words, blah blah blah. There's just one tiny thing I need from you…"
"And that is?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow. When he'd summoned Crowley he'd fully expected to pay a hefty price, one way or another. Powerful spells often demanded payment of equal value, usually in the form of self-sacrifice. It didn't change a damn thing for him.
"The spell will suck out the black parts of Dean's soul, the parts the Mark of Cain tainted. You need a container of sorts for the demonic bits. Don't get your panties in a twist, he'll be fine."
"What do you mean by… container?"
"Because it will technically house a portion of Dean's soul, an extension of Dean, the container will need to be an extension of him as well."
"So something that's important to him?"
"Aren't you a smart little Moose?"
"I know just the thing. Wait here," Sam said with an utterly blank expression before walking off in the direction of the dorms. Even his voice was devoid of any emotion. He returned several minutes later clutching something in his large palm.
Crowley produced a large bowl full of herbs and random items that Sam really did not want to look at closer (he was right, it really did stink to high heaven) seemingly out of nowhere. He held the bowl out to Sam only to snatch it away at the very last second, grinning at Sam's impatient glare. "Ah ah ah, you didn't think I would do this for free, did you?"
Sam took a deep calming breathe to help him resist the urge to pull out the demon killing knife hidden in his boot. "Just tell me what you want and get out of here."
"While having a Winchester owe you a favor is always a wonderful thing, I was thinking something more substan-" Crowley suddenly cocked his head to the side, looking downright baffled. It caused Sam to freeze; having never seen Crowley confused before, it was a mite unsettling. Thrown off his guard, he didn't even react until Crowley already had a hand on his stomach.
"What the fuck Crowley?" Sam shoved his hand away and took a step back. He could tell Dean hadn't liked that one bit judging by the demon's renewed attempts to escape the Devil's Tramp, however futile that might be.
A wide grin spread across Crowley's features and a chill went down Sam's spine. Smiling demons was never a good thing in his experience.
"Never mind love, happy to be of service. Free of charge. Just don't forget what I did for you, okay? Toodles." He shoved the bowl roughly into Sam's arms and just like that, the King of Hell had left the building.
Sam shook his head. Great. Now he owed the King of Hell a favor. Trying not to think of how many ways that could go spectacularly wrong, he shoved it out of his head to fret over another day. He had a brother in dire need of his humanity restored.
In no time at all Sam had lit up the herbs, recited the incantation thanks to the little note Crowley left, and the spell was nearly complete. There was just one little problem. He needed Dean to hold the object soon to contain his demonic energy close to his heart. Dean refused.
"Why the hell should I?" Dean snarled. "I told you I like things the way they are."
"Because you're not yourself, Dean," Sam threw his hands up in frustration. I know you're in there, the real you. Just like I know you care about me. So these constant mood swings, the violence, the anger… why would you want to keep all that? Why?"
Silence so loud it fills the entire bunker rings in Sam's ears. He's not sure he'll get an answer. But then Dean looks at him and whispers so quietly Sam almost can't hear it, "Because what if, when I'm human, I can't bring myself to love you the same way? What if you don't love me the same way?"
Sam is stunned. For all the millions of reasons Dean could have for refusing humanity, he never would have thought their relationship would be it. After all this time though, he feels like he should have known better. For better or worse, time and time again, Dean has proven that his driving force in nearly every decision he makes is Sam. And Sam's first instinct is to deny it, that no one, least of all his perfect, beautiful brother, could love him that much. No one should. But he knows it's true. Knows it in his bones and his blood.
So he basks in that unconditional love for a moment, soaks it up, and shows Dean he loves him every bit as much.
"I've loved you since the moment I was born, Dean. From looking up to you and wanting to be just like you, to first noticing how beautiful you are when I turned twelve, to finally having that chance months ago. Demon blood has nothing to do with it. I want to be your partner. I want you."
It wasn't as elegant as Sam had planned, but his words got caught up in his suddenly tight throat and came out in a raspy rush. He hoped it was enough to convey his message.
Even with his black eyes Sam can see the play of emotions cross Dean's face, going from shock to hope and love and finally settling on barely controlled fear. "But what if-"
"You love me, right?" Sam interrupts.
Dean looks confused at the sudden question but nods, looking Sam straight in the eye.
"Then we'll always find our way back to each other."
His hand is shaking as he holds out his palm wide. Ready.
Sam presses the object into Dean's palm and the effect is instantaneous. Dean screams and falls to his knees, seizing. Black is smoke is pouring out of his mouth and into the object clutched to his heart. It seems to go on forever, but finally, mercifully, it ends. The amulet is darker, almost black, and has a heavy air about it. It worked.
"Dean?" Sam whispers to his panting brother.
"Sammy?" Dean raises his head and his eyes are brilliant, brilliant, green and Sam could kiss him. So he does.
There will eventually be a sequel, believe it or not. To be honest the only reason I wrote this was so I could write the sequel. I decided to split this story up because the sequel will be, well, very different from this one, and not for everyone. But I hope you'll check it out! Once again, thank you so much for reading. Any reviews and thoughts would mean the world to me. Until we meet again!