Thanks so much to my wonderful beta, Maygin. Many, many thanks to all the wonderful readers!
"And it's a long way down from the top of the world
You better look around or you're gonna get burned…
…And as the dust clears look in my eyes
If my shadow's all that survives
I'm still alive…." Alive by Meat Loaf
When Sam appeared in the back seat it was all Dean could do to keep from driving off the road. Hanging over, wrapping one arm across Dean's neck and around his shoulders Sam whispered in his ear. "Maybe little brother Sammy should do it himself, save you the trouble. Spare you. He's said himself he'd die for you, but will he kill himself for you? Interesting question, don't you think?" The voice shifted from his right ear to his left. "How should he do it?" Bone chilling laugh. "Step in front of a train maybe? Naaa…too quick, something slow, agonizing. Take his knife and cut his own arms open, bleed out. I know," the voice shifted to his right ear again, "—fire—"
Dean's eyes slipped, for an instant, to the apparition. Stupid ass! Shouldn't have done that.
"That's it isn't it? Poor Sam, so afraid of fire. He'll have to torch himself up, nice and bright so you can watch, hear his screams, smell his burning flesh, see the terror in his eyes. And he'll do it all for you, for his big brother. Sammy'd do that for you, he'd do anything for you, even die, even kill himself." The voice dropped to a low, husky pitch. "Even burn."
Staring straight ahead, Dean refused to acknowledge the spirit, but he couldn't ignore it. Couldn't ignore the words and the images they invoked. Memory of the sight of Sam, tied to a pyre, flames swirling around him still too fresh. Dean's heart flattened, clenched tight in his too small chest. His stomach flipped against itself, tightening to a ball the size of a marble. Hot, angry bile crawled up to his mouth, swirled around his tongue. He forced it back down.
A stream of warm air lapped through the car, Sam was gone. Christ!
Yanking his phone out, Dean dialed Bobby again. This time it was two rings before Bobby answered. "How's my boy Bobby?" He didn't even attempt to conceal the agitation in his voice.
"He woke up a minute ago."
Dean's fingers tightened even harder around the steering wheel. "How is he? Behaving himself for you?"
"I'm not who he needs here. How do you think he is?" Bobby snapped.
Wincing Dean closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. "On my way back. Can I talk to him?"
Dean heard movement of the phone, could picture Sam's expression looking up at Bobby from the couch, probably as soon as the phone rang. He heard Bobby say his name, heard Sam mumble a thanks.
"How much longer?"
The softness of Sam's tone made the road blur until Dean blinked it clear. "You ok Sammy?"
He could hear the soft rustle of the phone against Sam's ear, imagine his brother nodding. "Yeah. How far are you?"
"I'm not sure, not long Sam, I promise. Listen to me kiddo, you hang in there, do what Bobby says. I'll be there." He waited, but there was no answer. "Sam?"
"Yeah. Ok."
"That's my boy. I've got the stone, we'll get them."
"Did they…are you ok?"
"Hey, I'm on this phone talking to you, aren't I?" That earned him a soft chuckle from Sam.
"Be careful. Ok? Please?"
"You betcha I will." Dean held the phone against his ear for a few minutes after the call had ended, he and Sam disconnected.
Bobby watched as Sam carefully set the phone down on its receiver. He watched as Sam bit his lip, one hand running absently through his hair. Sam's eyes wandered the room for a minute before coming to rest on Bobby. Bobby saw the sheen of moisture, but didn't say anything. Sam looked away after a few brief seconds. It was easy to see Sam wanted to say something, tell him something and didn't know what or maybe how, Bobby wasn't sure. Watching closely as Sam stood up, sat back down, took another look around the room, Bobby frantically worked for something to say to the kid.
"I remember when we were kids, Dean and I would come here…you used to call us two halves of the same whole, the same brain or person, something like that." Sam wasn't really talking to him. He nudged Valkyrie off his lap where she'd bounced after Sam sat down again. She'd spent the entire time he was asleep curled on his legs.
Bobby snorted softly, no used to be about it. Sam had been awake maybe a minute before Bobby's phone rang. Nope, no used to be about it at all. "Sam." Bobby said gently, waiting until Sam looked up at him before continuing. "Something's wrong?" Sam bit his lip and nodded. "Is he ok?"
Sam shook his head slightly. "Something happened, but I don't think he's hurt. Something bad."
"I got this put together, the ritual, I should say rituals, there's a string of them we'll need to do. One to free the spirits from demons, then one for each of the spirits themselves." Bobby shuffled through papers, books; more to occupy his mind and not look at Sam than anything else. If he'd been worried before what he was going to do with Dean if something happened to Sam; that just paled in comparison to his worry over what the heck he'd do with Sam if he were left without Dean. Bobby came to the sudden and saddening conclusion he most likely wouldn't have much opportunity to find out. He seriously doubted one would survive long without the other.
"How do we free the spirits from the demons?"
"That's going to be the tricky part—" Bobby's words were cut off by his front door opening. "He made good time, guess he was closer than he thought."
Bobby turned away from Sam to face Dean. His heart dropped to his knees, his intestinal tract did a complete flop, goose bumps rose on his arms and neck. Cold, raw fear swept through him like he'd never experienced before. When he heard Sam slowly push off the couch behind him Bobby took a step into the middle of the room, between the brothers.
The second to last person on this planet Bobby Singer had ever, in his life, known and never wanted to face off was Dean Winchester. Buying time, hoping his voice sounded normal, Bobby asked, "Get it ok?"
Stalking through the house, letting his fingers drop to a table, skim over them as he walked by Dean barely glanced at Sam, instead settled blazing eyes on Bobby. Bobby could feel Sam's own gaze bore into him, or by him, to Dean.
"I got it." Dean's voice was rough, gravelly. "For that you wanted me separated from my brother?" Dean stopped a few feet from him, eyes that were green molten fire fixed on him.
Somewhere around the time Dean turned thirteen or fourteen Bobby recognized in him what his father trained him to be. Lurking beneath a mostly calm, calculating exterior, cocky smile and generally kind nature was a killer. A killer most dangerous not when Dean thought himself at risk…but a killer most dangerous when he thought Sam was at risk.
The last place Bobby ever wanted to be was between Sam and Dean Winchester, especially with Dean looking at him as a threat.
The last person on the face of this Earth Bobby ever wanted to face off was Dean Winchester, possessed.
Bobby seriously faced the fact he might be about to die. Dean, certainly not himself, was glaring at Bobby; saw him as some kind of risk, road block to Sam. Behind him he heard Sam swallow.
"Bobby that's not—"
"Where is it?" Bobby snapped, cutting off Sam's words. Taking another step towards Dean and putting himself squarely between the two. One thing was for sure, he really would be dead if he let this…thing masquerading as Dean do harm to Sam. Dean, the real Dean would be unforgiving and merciless. From somewhere under the kitchen table Valkyrie snarled.
"I have it someplace nice and safe." Dean ran fingers over the back of a chair as he moved closer, intent stare never wavering from Bobby's. "It's not going to work you know. You'll never split us up."
Bobby sidestepped again, moving between the brothers. Hearing Sam move behind him Bobby put one hand out to the side, trying to keep Sam back. It was like trying to stop the ocean with a piece of paper. Even when his hand brushed Sam's arm, shoved back against it, the kid didn't stop.
"Leave him alone, get out…" Sam's words were stopped with a choke.
Dean sneered, "Shut up."
Sam was flung completely off the ground, slamming to a stop against the couch. It partially tipped over, teetering on the back legs before dropping back to its normal position. Bobby twisted around long enough to glimpse Sam moving, struggling to get his feet under him. Other things, books, magazines, candles took flight, making both he and Sam duck and weave to avoid being hit. Bobby made a grab for a fire place poker sitting in one corner. He couldn't do anything about what held Dean until he could contain it. Asking him to simply step under the Devil's Trap probably wasn't going to work out so well.
Dean's hand jerked away from his body at nearly the same instant as Bobby's moved, the poker flew to Dean's grip. Swinging it in both hands Dean took out a lamp, sending it shattering into a million small shards. "Really now, that's not so nice." Advancing a few more steps, Dean's attention riveted on Sam. "You stay put!" He barked.
The sound of Sam hitting the far wall was sickening. Bobby didn't dare take his eyes from Dean to assess the damage. He heard coughing and gasping from Sam, if he could cough he could breathe, and if he breathed then he was still alive.
"You're finished." Sam sneered just before he was tossed sideways. This time he must have been ready for it, Bobby was pleased Sam stayed on his feet.
The sound of a car engine distracted Bobby from his thoughts. The next thing he knew he heard Dean barking, "Hey!" Followed by heavy footsteps thundering up the front steps. Dean literally crashed through the door, banging it unceremoniously against the wall behind it with enough force to crack the plaster. "Sam! Sauumy….Bobby!"
Skidding to a halt a few feet from Bobby, and himself, Dean didn't bat an eye. Leveling his shotgun he fired point blank into the other Dean. In a blast of heat and red haze the Dean-thing vanished. In motion again at once, Dean crossed the room, going by Bobby as if he was invisible, not stopping until Sam's arm was firmly in his grasp.
"You ok?"
Sam looked at him, stunned. Dean shook his arm a bit, repeating, "You ok?"
"Ye—yeah." Sam looked from Dean, to Bobby to the spot Dean had been standing. "That was…?"
"Yeah, charming new trick, isn't it? You've been following me around for the last hour. Frankly you were getting to be a royal pain in the ass." Turning back to Bobby, "You ok? What a mess." Dean let a duffel bag hanging on his shoulder drop to his hand, offering it to Bobby. "They've been using some dirty tricks to try and stop me from getting this, taking it."
"That's…" Bobby waved at his wrecked room in general, "Bad Dean. Boys, this is really bad." He carefully laid the stone on the table amongst the piles of books.
"Try not to cheer us up too much Bobby." Dean smirked, heading for the table of books, dragging Sam behind him. "What do we do? I don't know how much time we've got before they come back in one form or another."
"Bobby said we have to separate the entities from the demons." Sam fingered the edge of the stone. "How do we do that?"
Bobby sighed, "That's the part I'm not sure about. According to what I've found out, somehow the wrongs done to the entities, the spirits of these men has to be at least acknowledged, better yet righted. Once that's done, it's a fairly straight forward binding, locking them in this stone so they can't leave it. That'll break the link to their land. Smashing the stone inside a salt ring, then mixing the salt with it sends them on their way."
"You've got to be kidding me?!" Dean sputtered.
"Huh? How the hell do we right their wrongs, they weren't the ones wronged, they were the ones doing the wrongs!"
"Sam. Sammy." Dean tried putting a placating hand on his brother's shoulder. Sam twisted away, angrily shoving Dean's arm away.
"No, this is insane! I didn't do anything to them. Brandon didn't do anything to them, none of us did. They put me in a cage and…and….I still can see the flames, I still have nightmares and I'm supposed to make something right for them?!"
"Sam, they perceive a wrong, that's why all that happened. It's not right, but it's what was in their warped minds." Bobby put enough harshness in his voice so both brothers paid attention. Sam turned away from him, from Dean, but it was still easy to see the anger all over his face, in his body language. Bobby didn't blame him, not one bit. The kid's entire body trembled.
Dean laid his hand on the back of Sam's neck, this time Sam let it stay, but didn't look at his brother, didn't look at Bobby. "It may not be right, but it's what we have to do, or try to do. And in the end they'll be gone, get what they should. Isn't that what counts, no one else gets hurt by them, ever?"
When Sam looked at Dean and nodded, Bobby saw the shimmer in the boy's eyes.
"I'm probably the one they think wronged them anyway." Dean said softly.
"For what?" Sam snapped, "Doing the same thing they claimed to be doing, looking out for your brother?"
"You said it yourself Sam, all three of them were warped. It doesn't have to make sense. It's just the way it is." Bobby said.
"You want them gone, I want them gone, they're gonna be gone. But this is what we have to do." Dean added.