(Disclaimer: Don't own anything but this story)
Battle Weary.
Chapter Twenty.
The sun had set long ago. The night sky was now filled with billions of twinkling stars and the full-moon looked down upon the bodies of two men; one lying over the other in what looked like a final, desperate act of protection.
The crickets had resumed their chirruping and the owls hooted monotonously in the distance, their home now returned to the peaceful haven it was before it had been violated by the sounds of battle. Nature always forgave such intrusions…it seldom forgot. The blood of the vanquished always left a reminder. The earth soaked up the remains of battle, always keeping it alive in some small way. Nothing ever passes into time without someone or something bearing witness.
And bear witness it did. Nature watched as the first stirrings of life returned to one of the men. It started slowly, as all life does…creeping its way into the body, forging a path towards existence, one heart-beat…then another …and another before it races into action, bursting back into life with a scream.
----------
Jay sat on the lounge, her head in her hands, exhausted. Azazel had fought...and fought hard. They all did when it came down to it, when they finally understood that this really was the end for them. She raised her head and looked out the window, night had settled over the land and everything was quiet. There was no wind, no sounds of any kind. Even the crickets hadn't resumed their chirruping. It always took a while for nature to return after a banishing. The area had been tainted and life would only return when it was sure all traces of the unnatural were gone.
She looked at her palm, the scar was almost gone. It was the only scar that would completely fade. It was a way for her to keep her secret, to ensure others didn't know who she was and what she did. A way to keep her safe.
She sighed. She hadn't exactly lied to Dean, Sam and Gus, she'd just... left something out. She was looking for her brother, she was still trying to get to him and she would continue to do so. She hadn't known she would find the answers she needed here, she guessed that maybe Zeke had and that still messed with her mind. She hadn't had any idea about his gifts and that was just like him. Only letting her know what he thought she needed to. It didn't work the other way though. He knew about her healing and about her being a Banisher, damn, he'd been the one that had steered her towards it. Only two other people, apart from Zeke, knew about her. Three now, if she counted Gus.
She got up, walked out to the porch and looked up to the sky. The moon was full, casting an eerie, blue glow over the landscape, making everything it touched appear ghostly. She turned her head towards the direction of the battleground, they should have been back by now. She looked at her watch…yeah, they should have been back by now. She walked back into the cabin to get organised.
--------------
His breathing was ragged at first, his senses not fully understanding what had happened, what was happening. He moaned loudly as the first stirrings of memory started to seep back into his conscious. His eyes snapped open and he pushed himself off his brother, their shirts sticking, the spilled blood seeming to want to keep them together in death as it had in life.
He howled his anguish up to the sky, the owls in nearby trees taking flight at the sudden, desolate wail of despair. He knelt next to the body of his brother; his brother whom he had sworn to protect, to protect above all else. He pulled Sam to him, holding him close, willing the life back into him, begging the Gods for one more chance, one more chance to set it right. When he got no answer, he raged at them, swearing vengeance on them, cursing them for all eternity... until he broke. The grief so overwhelming he could do nothing but hold his brother, rock him in his arms, whispering his name over and over and begging him for forgiveness.
He didn't know how long he sat like that. Time had no meaning anymore. Nothing had meaning anymore. He'd defeated the demons and it had cost Sam his life. He remembered the words Sam had said…the words that echoed through his mind. That reverberated deep in his soul. Words that would never let him go…
"I've killed you, now you kill me. I've killed you, now you kill me. I've killed you, now you kill me"
It wouldn't stop. It would never stop. In the last moments of his life, Sam had hated him. Hated him enough to kill him. Hated him so much he'd made Dean to kill him in return. He would never get the chance to explain to Sam it wasn't supposed to happen that way; never get the chance to make things right… never get the chance to tell Sam he loved him.
He'd failed. He'd failed Sam and he would never get over it. He didn't want to. He lay his brother gently on the ground and kissed his forehead gently, like he had when they'd been kids, when life held promise and where they'd still had their innocence.
He got slowly to his feet and went to the car. He took a piece of paper from the glove-box and wrote a note for Gus, explaining everything and asking for one last favour. He put the note under the windshield wiper and walked back to his brother.
He knelt on the ground near his brother's head then turned away, unable to look at what he'd done. He moved slightly away from him and drew one of his swords from its scabbard. One quick movement, no hesitations….it was the only way. He thought back to his childhood, the happy times he'd shared with Sam, wanting that to be the last thing he ever saw. He closed his eyes and raised his sword….
"For you, Sam…." he whispered.
He started the arc towards his neck….then felt the sword stopped. He opened his eyes and looked into ones filled with heartache…
"No, Dean."
-----------
They crashed through the front door of the cabin, they had very little time…
"GUS! GUS!!" screamed Dean as he looked around the cabin, searching for the man.
He looked up and saw Gus stagger out of the kitchen, the man was a mess. There were long welts down his face and the blood-vessels in his eyes had burst, the whites of them now red as the beginnings of bruises formed around them. His head was bandaged as were his hands, but he was standing, so he was well enough to help.
"Jesus, what the hell happened?" said Gus as he took halting, painful steps into the room.
"Just help me!"
Gus made his way over to Dean as fast as he could and they went to the spare room.
"On the bed now! How bad is it?" asked Gus.
"Bad...jesus…bad…."
"How did this happen? How the fuck did this happen Dean?"
Dean just shook his head as he stared at the figure on the bed.
"Go the fridge, there's a jar in there…get it! Now, Dean!"
"Which…"
"JUST GO!"
Dean ran from the room, jerked the fridge open and looked. He saw it immediately. He grabbed the jar and ran back to the room, holding the one thing that may just bring his brother back from the brink.
----------
Jay walked back into the cabin, she had a lot to do before Dean and Sam got back. She went to the bathroom and got what she needed from Gus' first aid kit. She went to the kitchen, got what she needed from there and then retrieved pen and paper from the desk near the front door. She sat on the lounge and got to work.
She sipped at her beer as she wrote, trying not to think of what lay ahead. She finished a half hour later. She got up, went to the bookcase, removed the old book she'd read earlier and put it in her duffel bag. She went back to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of tequila and a couple of beers and put them in her bag too.
She checked Gus one last time before heading out the door. She threw her bag onto the back seat of her car and looked towards the battleground again. She sighed, she had to believe she was doing the right thing, she had to trust Zeke and she had to trust Dean and Sam. She believed they were still alive, if they weren't, both she and Gus would be dead right now.
She took one last look at the cabin, got into her car and drove towards one of the destinations that she hoped would give her the answers she needed. The answers that would bring her closer to saving her brother.
-----------
Dean and Sam sat on the porch drinking beer, an uneasy silence filling the air between them. Dean finally broke it…
"What if it hadn't worked, Sam?" he asked quietly.
Sam shrugged "Zeke said it would. He said there'd be enough of your blood on the blade to bring me back and that Jay would help with the rest" he looked at his brother "How'd she know to leave it? The blood, I mean"
It was Dean's turn to shrug "Zeke I'd imagine"
They sat in silence for a long time, each lost in the memories of that night. Memories that would haunt the both of them for many years to come. It was a long time before Dean spoke again.
"I'm tired, Sam. Tired of all the killing, tired of all the hunting….tired of all the battles" he paused and said quielty and without conviction "I don't want to do this anymore"
Sam nodded, he was tired too. He understood though, that they'd been given a gift, and he was sure Dean understood that too. It was a gift that could not be wasted. They were hunters. They always would be. Only now they were hunters that could rise from the dead.
The warriors had evolved.
The End.