Chapt 10/11 (I think)
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Dean/Mary (gen)
PG13- language warning.
A/N: WIP - Another take on 'Home', only this time Dean freaks out and can't bring himself to go into the house. Spoilers for Home, Faith, Benders. Title from Slaughter's song of the same name.
Disclaimer: Supernatural and them guys are not mine. This is not for profit
Attempted to bring in, briefly an original character (because, you know, not my strongest point) and although he's only there for the briefest of times, I quite like Bo, my little bohemian friend pats him on the head and gives him a cookie
And just reinforcing a reminder - in this AU, Faith occurred before Home, in case you think my timeline is a bit screwey.

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Chapter 10

'You have been long from me and I have tried to treat your absence as normality'

'But now your hands hold mine and all the years are gone

and all the hidden pain,

and I'm complete again' Charlotte Gray, A Long parting

The light, although bright, wasn't blinding. It felt natural. Warm. Enduring. And Dean had to admit, beautiful.

Dean wasn't entirely sure if these feelings and increasingly comfortable and content sensation that was rapidly multiplying in him, was from the light alone, or just from the mere fact that his mother's soft, gentle, fingers held his own, tight and caring, in such a way that he ached for the time when he just a toddler and he'd had his hand held tightly when walking across the road or down the sidewalk to the shops or the near-by park.

Presently he had no idea what he was walking on – it reminded him of the time he had snuck Sam out and taken him to the local carnival that was in town and they had gone into a cheap makeshift 'haunted house', that they had rolled their eyes at in distaste, but there had been two young girls who had been too scared to go in by themselves, and Dean, in all his glory of 12 years of age, had ventured in with them, Sam grumbling all the way. But Dean had found the experience rather disturbing, pitch black and hoky noises, the floor spongy and unsteady with no substance, that it had caused waves of nausea with motion sickness.

That nausea was here again, but he swallowed it down, eyes darting to his mother, walking beside him, as a small, nervous smile ghosted over his lips.

They came to a stop as the light faded slightly, peeling back to reveal a misty fog moving around the rays of light.

"It's o.k." she said, smiling back at him.

Through the light and patches of fog, some of the surrounding scenery and horizon became clearer, and more focused. Dean took in a breath and then breathed it out slowly, taking in the scene before him. There were buildings in front of them, which he could only describe as the greatest and most extravagant architecture that he'd ever seen. Something fit for the Romans or Caesar, he thought.

Astounding buildings with breath-taking doors. Buildings with striking white stone and marble, cool and spectacular. Before that there were steps, seemingly a natural and smooth extension of the stone and marble, coming to a stop in front of them both, with large boulders to either side.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Mary breathed beside him.

"Never seen anything like it" Dean quietly murmured back.

The fog shifted with light, three shadowed figures appearing and moving through the mist.

"Mom?" Dean asked, concerned.

"It's o.k. Dean" Mary said, squeezing his hand tightly, "they're here for me".

The figures moved through the mist, coming out of it, and stopping at the top of the steps – one to the left and two the right. After a second or two, all three slowly descended the steps and as they came nearer Dean could see that the man to the left had long hair and was wearing a white linen-looking shirt, with wide peace hugging sleeves, and trousers.

The two to the right, a lady and man, looked to be in their late 50's or 60's. Warm smiles and tears met his and his mother's gazes.

"Mom" Mary whispered, voice choking as her own hand flew to her mouth, "Dad".

"Mary" the man replied, his own face breaking into a mixture of tearful happiness and sad remorse, "We've been waiting for you".

"It's been a long time" Mary said, a broken smile mirroring her father's, before turning and nodding reassuringly at Dean, "Dean, this is your grandmother and grandfather. They died" she paused as her voice shook again, "before you were even born".

"Hey" Dean said, throwing a quick smile in their direction, unsure of what to say.

"Hello Dean" his grandmother spoke up, a wide smile lighting up her face, "Mary, you and John have brought some special boys into the world".

"They're fantastic" Mary agreed.

"O.K, right thanks" Dean interrupted, feeling his cheeks flush slightly, uncharacteristically abashed, "So who's the stoner guy?"

"Dean" Mary reprimanded, shaking her head.

"HE is a spiritual a guide" the man spoke up, amused, "You're mother's to be precise. I'm here to make the transition easier. Bo's the name".

"Hello" Mary said, nodding at the guide, smiling, "Sorry I'm late".

"Yeah" he nodded, laughing "You know how long I've been waiting for you Winchester. My commission is down" he paused and glanced at Dean, head tilted to one side as he studied him, toe to tip, "So you're Dean, huh?"

"Urr… yeah" Dean said, weary.

"Man, Gabe and the guys have been having kittens over you" Bo said, shaking his head, a glint of amusement in his eyes, "Dude, here's a tip, if something or someone is glowing, don't touch it".

"Duly noted" Dean said, a small dry laugh parting his own lips.

"So, I'm here to help your mother Dean" Bo said, "Answer her questions, show her the way, help her on the other side" he paused, stepping forward and nodded to Dean, "You got any Q's?"

"Huh?" Dean asked, slightly dumfounded by the bohemian in front of him.

"Questions dude" Bo corrected, eyes rolling.

"Yeah, actually I do" Dean said, "Where's Jay and Silent Bob?"

"Dean!" Mary reprimanded, hand squeezing tightly in disapproval, but as he glanced sideways at her he saw her eyes glistening with a self-restrained smile.

"Is this the part where I'm supposed to split my sides laughing at some kind of reference to something I haven't got a clue about, because dude, I'm a 70's man" Bo said, giving him a sardonic smile.

"So you can't tell me if God looks like Alanis Morrisette, huh?" Dean replied sarcastically.

"He sure is a character" he heard his grandmother guffaw before glancing at her husband, "Inappropriate humour, I wonder where gets that from?"

"Dude, gods whatever you want it to be" Bo replied cryptically, again a smile on his lips, before turning to his mother "Mary, Q's?"

"No" she said, not taking her eyes from Dean.

"All rightey then" Bo said, nodding in understanding as he patted Mary's shoulder, "I'll give you a few minutes".

"Thank you" she said, throwing a relieved look to her guide before returning to Dean and fixing him with a sad smile, "This is it Dean".

"Y… Yeah" Dean agreed, voice wavering as he fingered her palm.

Mary let him hold on to her hand, embracing the physical connection between them, and reinforcing it with her free hand, bring it up and rubbing his arm in the same spot Sam had rubbed earlier that morning.

"I just want to let you know" Mary whispered, quietly, keeping the spoken words quiet and between them, "That I'm so proud of you and Sam".

Dean lowered his gaze, unable to meet his mother's watery, warm and honest eyes.

"I love you so much" she said, voice hitching and then breaking into a sob as she took action, pulling his body into hers, her hand moving from his arm, to rub at his back, as small shudders littered through both of their bodies, "And I'm so sorry that you've had to do this. I wish things were different. But they're not".

"Yeah" Dean breathed into her hair, numb, as regret and dread filled him, guilt and despair causing bile to rise up through his throat.

"And your dad loves you. Don't give up on him" Mary said, continuing her hold and light touch, "He'll make the right decision soon enough. Then everything will fit into place. You've just got to… believe in him and accept whatever it is" she paused and whispered, "I promise you, it will be for the best".

She felt Dean's own arms pull around her and the light sound of murmuring.

"Just remember, I love you" she said, finally, pushing herself away from him, brushing his face with a soft kiss. She let her fingers lax and drift from his hand, stepping back and away, as another sob caught in her throat, causing the words to sound strangled "Goodbye Dean".

Dean suddenly shook his head viciously and swept up her hand again, pulling and pushing their bodies, so that they both moved forwards. His face contorted and mouth parted as a low guttural groan whimpered out of him.

Bo's eyes widened as he realised both Mary and Dean had, in the sudden move, ventured nearer the marble steps.

"What are you doing Dean?" Mary asked, startled, voice loud and panicked.

"I Can't…" Dean insisted, eyes wide, his breaths caught with words in harsh gasps, "You can't…"

"You have to" Mary gasped out, desperately trying to wrench her arm out of his hold, "You can't go any further and I can't go back".

"Yeah?" Dean ground out, his voice bitter and desperate, "Well, I'm selfish and I can't say goodbye".

Mary shook her head, her blonde hair flying wildly around her, as she continued to struggle in the hold, pushing at him with her other hand, "You have to, or you'll die".

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Sam's recitation and apparent calmness slowly epped away as he saw Dean stagger slightly, body swaying. At the same time he felt a burning sensation swell up through his soul as emotion, which he felt were not his own, deep within and all around him, broadcasted like a suddenly-lit flare. The strange 'wired' feeling of connection he had experienced shortly after starting the recitation, that he had hoped assured him that Dean had been grounded to him, was suddenly cut.

Sensing Dean's sagging body, he quickly gathered some of the candles, pushing them out of harms way, as Dean slipped to his knees, Sam falling with him, bodies becoming one. Dean's eyelids fluttered revealing rolling eyes, and Sam was instantly reminded of the slow, graceful way his brother had slipped to the floor, back in Roy Le-Grange's tent. But his time Sam was there, behind him, as he lowered him gently to the floor.

Unlike the time in the supposed faith healer's tent, Dean did not respond to Sam's shake and worried exclamations of his name. Body slumped, arms slack, head resting in Sam's gathered hands, Dean just lay half-in, half-out, of the circle, unmoving and unresponsive…

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Mary's arm was still clutched tightly in Dean's hold. Both of their eyes sparking – pained, desperate, and sad.

"You have to go back" Mary insisted, her eyes going from painful sadness, to angry and scared.

"I… I don't know if I can" Dean admitted, voice quiet and wobbling, "Mom… I'm so tired. I just want it to be over".

Dean didn't break. His eyes didn't fill with tears. Waterfalls didn't fall.

His face simply pictured weariness and confusion and his eyes lifted, catching hers, as if searching for an answer.

"When you were with me… it felt different" he continued, stumbling over the words, face wincing as he spoke, "I remembered what you felt like… I remembered what it used to be like. I don't want to loose it".

He could sense all eyes on him, grandparents sad and drowning, and Bo's more panic stricken, mumbling something quietly to himself and he thinks he catches, 'This shouldn't be happening'.

"You don't have to" Mary said, ignoring everyone, but her son, "I'll always be a part of you".

"Maybe that's not enough!" Dean ground out, anger now lacing his words.

"Listen to me Dean Winchester!" Mary exclaimed, grabbing Dean's hold back, with both arms, "You're important… you're so important…"

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… "Dean, man" Sam said, swatting at his face with his hand, "C'mon, wake up dude".

Dean didn't respond. Didn't make a noise. Didn't move.

Sam's hand moved from Dean's cheek, where he swatted helplessly, slowly, hesitatingly, to the side of his neck, fingers searching, exploring, and messaging at his skin, until they fell into place, trying to count out the beats.

But Sam's hand shot back and away as if the touch was sharp and burning.

"God, no!" Sam choked out, willing for the previous connection to spark again. Sam shook his head, "No…"

Dean hadn't just passed out, and there wasn't a temporary loss of signal to have caused their lost connection – Dean wasn't breathing…

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… "You're so important" Mary said and as if to emphasise the point, she shook him, hard enough to rattle her own bones in her slender arms, "You've kept the family together, rooted. You're the soul, the glue" Mary whispered, "and I love you even more for it. But it's not over – just remember that they do need you and you them".

"Mom" Dean's quiet voice broke further as he shook his head. It wasn't a shake of denial, more of a weary shake of suppressed emotion, which threatened to rip him apart, leaving him bare and honest for all to see.

"I don't want this for you Dean" Mary said, her own voice falling, speaking with ease as her eyes misted over with hope, "You're meant to do things. Important things. I want you to live".

He nodded and loosened his grip but found himself mirroring her earlier touch as he let his fingers touch lightly at her arm.

"I miss you"

"And me you" she said, "But I'll always be there".

Dean didn't respond as he studied his mother's earnest face. They were stood in close proximity, arms touching, but already there seemed to be a distance between them.

Mary broke the contact, briefly, until she brought her arm up, and cupped the side of his face against her palm. He leant into the gesture.

"Sammy's calling you" she said, "Can't you hear him…?"

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… Dean wasn't breathing. And for the briefest of moments, Sam panicked, breaths coming quick and fast.

No, Sam thought; get a grip of yourself Winchester. Dean needs him. ABC, Airways, Breathing, Circulation. CPR, he said to himself, as he clumsily readjusted both Dean and himself and leant over his brother's prone body.

He remembered the last time he'd had to do anything like this, back when he was still at home. Only her name was 'Resuscitation Annie' and to Dean's amusement, Sam had been, at first, unable to get any sufficient breaths in to her.

The first time Sam had given CPR he'd killed the dummy.

Their dad had brought her home one evening when he was 12 and had shrugged mysteriously when Sam had asked where it had come from but had insisted both Sam and Dean practice with it because there was nothing like preparation. Sam, at the time had considered it more of a bad omen. It wasn't until several attempts later, Dean had sat down with him and pointed out that he hadn't been pinching the nose, and after a couple of more tries and with Dean's help, he had, at least saved the dummy. Dean had commandeered Annie, after, and placed her next to his bed, sticking an old cigarette in her mouth, and a 'DNR' sign around her neck. When it time to move on, Dean had left her behind, too big to take on the road. He would have laughed out loud at picturing the new occupants, of the small apartment, reactions' at finding her lazily leaning against the wall, if he wasn't in the predicament he was in.

But Dean, who had ironically shown him how to do the steps, now needed them to be practiced on him and Sam wasn't going to make the same mistake again. He pinched Dean's nose, tilting his head back slightly and breathed into his mouth twice before snapping back and studying his brother.

Still no response.

Sam let his hand trace across Dean's torso as he placed both hands, balled, into position. 15 compressions, 2 breaths, 15 compressions, 2 breaths, 15 compressions, 2 breaths.

"C'mon Dean" he hissed out, feeling the thrusts, rip though his taught arms and muscles, "Breathe".

Dean didn't make a noise, didn't make a startled, desperate attempt at a breath. Instead his body moved limply and loosely with every compression.

"Don't do this to me" Sam exclaimed, voice rising in frustration, tears forming in his eyes, "Don't do this, are you listening to me soldier? Don't leave me" he gasped out before shouting, "Goddammit, Breathe!"

As the compressions continued, he slowly lost count of the amount and the rhythm, numbly letting them come to a stop, hands resting tightly, balled, in Dean's shirt and with a flare of anger and despair he wrenched Dean's body up, chest and head falling loosely against Sam's own.

His chin rested on top of Dean's head, voice small and tight, as he quietly begged, "Don't fucking die on me".

When, yet again there was no response, the anger faded away and the shock and pain hit him hard, as he gasped, releasing his hold and scrambling back, unceremoniously letting Dean slump back, head thumping against the floor…

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"Sammy's calling you" she said, "Can't you hear him?"

Dean tilted his head slightly and found his eyes closing. In the darkness, behind his lids, he felt himself being pulled by an unseen force. In the distance he could hear a muffled and distorted voice. His name. Sam's voice.

"Sammy" he breathed out, opening his eyes.

"He needs you Dean" Mary said quietly and seriously, eyes boring into her son's, "You need to be there for him".

Dean continued to stare at her, taking in her hair, her eyes, her face, and burning it into him like an imprint.

"I know" Dean eventually said, quietly, "I was just having a crazy moment" he paused and shrugged, arms stiff, "Sammy means everything to me".

"It's o.k." she said smiling, "You boys mean everything to me. You're both special".

Mary stepped forwards and swallowed Dean into her arms again, tight, warm, and reassuring.

"I love you Dean and I know you'll do great things" she leant into him, mouth close to his ear.

They both pulled away and their eyes met again. Dean knew it would be for the last time.

"It's time for you to go back and me to move forward" Mary said.

Dean nodded and let her step backwards away from him towards the awaiting Bo.

"Hmm… how do I…?" Dean began.

"Just close your eyes dude" Bo said, "And listen to your brother. You'll find the way".

Dean and Mary stood so close and yet, physically they were already miles apart, their callings and forces threatening to pull them back in polar opposites.

"Goodbye Dean" Mary said, her voice fluttering over his face.

His eyes drifted shut, loosing any sense of direction and gravity, and as he slipped into an unknown dark oblivion, he thought he heard Bo murmur the same words Roy Le-Grange had said to him only a month or so earlier, 'He has an important purpose, a job to do, and it isn't finished'…

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tbc

'Gathering what can be salvaged, the distraught and injured children, the lost, the dispossessed, the fragments of a broken society.

They stoop across every battlefield, seeking for their own.

They tear at blocks of stone tumbled by earthquake, blackened by fire.

Out of destruction they piece together small areas of safety, letting fragments stand as symbols of a whole' Extracted From Pamela Brown Mother Courage, (For Mother a gift of love, edited by Helen Exley, 1993, Exley Publications).

A/N2: Just thought that the above quote, for me, in this on-going fic, and in SPN in general, represented both Mary and Dean, as well as John and Sam.
The Charlotte Gray quote also comes from this book