Come Home
Author Warning: Final chapter and trust me. I'm making it right. Deep breath, read and thanks for your patience in waiting for this final chapter.
Chapter Two
"Sammy!" Dean Winchester was torn between shooting the doctors who didn't seem to be doing a damn thing for his crashing brother or trying to see if a Reaper could die from a bullet in the skull when the one behind him laid a hand on his shoulder. "Your boss would rather take his pound of flesh out on Sam?" he demanded tightly, cringing every time those paddles shocked his little brother and Sam's limp body jerked. "He's pissed off at me! I'll let him claim my life if he just lets Sam live, dammit!"
"Oh my boss is still very much pissed off at you, Dean," the Reaper replied eyeing what was happening in the room critically before narrowing his eyes a moment before the heart monitor, which had been flat lining, began a slow but present heartbeat. "There is, however, a bit more involved than just trading your life for your brother's."
Dean shot the Reaper a glare, jerking his hand off his shoulder to confront the first doctor brave enough to step close to him. "How's my brother and spare me the 'his fate's in God's hands' line."
The same doctor who had spoken to Dean earlier glanced at the new test results while also taking into account this latest issue. "Mr. Winchester," he began grimly, never finding this conversation easy to start but he could already see how badly this young man would take it. "I told you earlier that we could find no reasonable cause for your brother's condition or why he continues to get worse. The cardiogram just down once his heart started beating again shows weakening. The last blood test results came back with some form of blood poisoning that we can't decipher.
"Sam is dying slowly, Mr. Winchester and I'm afraid there's very little we can do to halt that. I can't tell you how long he has because he is struggling to hang on but…I won't lie to you. You need to spend the time now with him saying goodbye," he glanced at the strange new arrival before placing a hand on a shaking shoulder. "We'll do everything possible to make him comfortable."
"Uh, yeah, thanks, Doctor," the Reaper moved suddenly to edge the doctor out of the room before he had to collect another soul. "Dean appreciates that but you'll understand why telling him that and still being in his line of sight is probably not a healthy thing for you."
Pushing the doctor out of the room to shut the door firmly in his face, the Reaper leaned against the door to blow out a breath. "Damn. It's a goddamn amazing that my kind doesn't collect more of his kind," he muttered, turning to watch Dean pull a chair back closer to the bed but before he sat down in it he took a damp cloth to wipe over Sam's face. "Dean…"
"So, no amount of begging, pleading, deal making or promising will save Sammy this time, is that what you're telling me?" he asked without looking behind him, wiping the cloth down his brother's arm before taking his hand in his to hold it tightly. "He's Death! He doesn't have a choice or is he just trying to make a point to me? Because if that's his game, you can go tell your boss that it won't matter because right after Sam dies and I take him away from here I will load the Impala with so much gas and TNT and ram her over the first cliff I find."
"Yeah, that's the popular consensus of what you'll do," the Reaper sighed, running a hand back through his hair. It's not a matter of Death choosing to take Sam or not, Dean. It's a matter of Sam wanting to come back, to him being able to reach through the veil now to find you and whatever the hell the trials did to him. Believe it or not, even my boss has limits."
Reaching into his pocket to remove the needle of blood he'd drawn from Crowley earlier, Dean stared at it for several long moments. "Can you…can you tell me if he's…alright?" he asked, unsure of what he wanted to know. "I mean, where he is now, is he in pain? Or is the pain gone?"
Considering his responses carefully, the Reaper stepped closer but not close enough to be considered a threat. "No, he's still in pain because he's not in the light. Since Heaven and Hell are both sort of in flux right now we're not even certain where souls will go but right now Sam is trying to fight his way back to you but the boss wanted to give one final test and we're not certain Sam is strong enough to breach the veil to come back without help."
"Sammy can't even find peace when he's dying," Dean snorted, squeezing his brother's hand again while watching Sam's face for signs of movement or even a flicker under closed lashes. "What…what do I have to do?"
"What makes you think I have the answer for that?" the Reaper countered, rolling his eyes when sharp green ones pinned him with a look that spelled lethal. "You're a big part in getting Sam back but…there's more needed this time than just some big brother magic. The Angel wasn't lying when he said Sam was changed on a level beyond normal healing."
Dean followed his eyes to where the syringe of blood laid on the bed and he frowned. "He was so happy to think the trials were purging him of this crap. To save my brother I have to risk him hating me for reinfecting him with the very damn demon blood he never asked for or wanted," he moved to sit on the bed beside Sam. "Hey, little brother, can you hear me at all, Sammy?" he asked quietly, letting his other hand stay on his brother's neck.
"I need to talk to you about something, Sam. I know you probably can't hear me but if you can then I hope one day, if you ever find out about this, that you'll understand why I did it," he kept Sam's hand tight in his and guessed it was wishful thinking when he thought for just a moment he felt a slight response to his grip.
"I'm not the best big brother to you, Sammy. I've tried to be. From the second I first saw you in Mom's arms I knew that I'd never let you fall and that I'd always protect you. I've tried my damn best over the years to do that but I've screwed it up. I screwed it up big the night I let you do these trials but if this is my only way to heal you, to get you back then I will," Dean took the syringe in his hand but didn't remove the safety tip over the needle.
"I don't know if giving you this will help or hurt, Sam. I wish you could tell me what to do because I don't want to lose my pain in the ass little brother like this but I also don't want to risk you going through full blown demon blood withdrawal again either," that was Dean's biggest fear if he used this last resort option.
He could still recall what the blood did to Sam and the two times he had to lock his brother down in Bobby's old Panic Room had been hard on both of them.
Sam had been through so much in the past few years that Dean didn't think he could survive another withdrawal attack, especially with as weak and pale as he seemed right now. "Any promises that this will work even if I inject him with this stuff?" he asked the Reaper.
"I collect souls, Winchester. I'm not a mindreader or a healer by trade," the man returned sourly with another sigh. "You're not injecting him with straight demon blood since Crowley's blood has been diluted with Sam's own blood which has…who knows what in it now so…odds are 50/50 it works or it might heal him to wake him up but…"
"I liked Tessa a lot better than you," Dean grumbled, carefully easing Sam's arm over to see all the veins painfully clear under skin so thin these days. "You're gonna come home to me now, little brother. You're going to come home so we can get back to Kevin who may or may not still be in the bunker by this point and you're going to let me take care of you until you're back on your feet," he reached for a cotton ball and some alcohol to sterilize the best vein he could find.
"I'm going to keep this promise, Sammy. Nothing and no one will ever come before you and I will never make you think that I'd choose someone else over my own blood…over the brother that's been mine since the first time Mom let me feel you kick and damn it, kid I should've known then you'd grow up tall cause you had one helluva kick on you," he kept talking as he took another look at the needle before slowly inserting the tip into the best vein while offering a silent apology to his brother.
Dean watched the syringe depress slowly to inject the diluted blood into Sam's arm and then as he pitched it in with other needles for disposal all he could do was hope the blood was diluted enough not to harm Sam but still had enough of something left to maybe counter effect whatever it was hurting his brother.
"Now what do I do?" he asked the silent Reaper, rubbing a hand over the spot on Sam's arm where the needle had been as if trying to feel if it was having any effect but so far Sam still felt as cold and still as he had.
"You wait," was the grim reply.
Waiting had never been one of Dean Winchester's favorite traits or things to do. Even as a toddler he hadn't been a patient child or so his Dad would occasionally tell him.
As he sat or paced the hospital room while the quiet Reaper sat in a corner apparently playing on an actual cellphone, Dean could recall how impatient he'd gotten waiting for his little brother to be born. For a few days, when Sam was late, Dean couldn't count the times he'd asked his parents when Sammy, because he was already Sammy to him, was coming.
"'Your brother clearly isn't running at your speed, champ,'" his Dad had laughed after one time when Dean had crawled between his parents to lay his hands on Mary's belly to firmly 'tell' his too slow sibling to come out of Mommy.
"I have been waiting on you since before you were born, Sam," he spoke suddenly, turning from the window to walk back over to sit in the chair to look at the still pale and unmoving face. "You were four days late being born and then it seemed to take forever before Mom brought you home."
Dean slid his hand around Sam's again to hold it tightly but was slowly coming to feel that he'd been too late using the blood. It was going on three days since he'd injected Sam and yet the doctors could still see no sign of improvement and would just tell Dean to be prepared for when the end came.
He was prepared for that in the form of the .45 caliber Colt he'd snuck through security this morning after returning from a quick shower and shave but now as Dean sat still to think and remember he was coming to the conclusion that he didn't want Sam dying in a damn sterile hospital.
"He's not going to wake up is he?" he asked quietly, not really expecting an answer. "Can he hear me?"
"Yes, he can hear you and he's trying to reach for you but…something's keeping him from breaking the last veil," the Reaper honestly wasn't sure what that was since he'd been fairly certain his boss wouldn't keep the younger Winchester from returning or maybe it was a matter of this one proving his own words. "I can't answer on the other except to say that the longer this takes the less likely it seems."
They had enemies in both Heaven and Hell so Dean figured any number of people would like to see them tore apart like this. Though to keep Sam trapped wherever he was like this, to let him hear Dean but keep him unable to wake up was not something the elder brother was going to stand for.
"Let him go or take him but either way let it be his choice," Dean spoke to the room in general and whoever else might be listening but then his attention returned to his brother. "One more question and then…then I guess you can do whatever it is you're still around to do," he paused. "Am I holding him here? Is it me that's keeping him from moving on?"
"I…don't know," the Reaper answered honestly, understanding why these two made Tessa so upset at times. "I honestly don't know what's happening now and I'm still here in case…"
Dean got what that meant. In case he did pull the trigger on himself which was still what he planned because he'd struggled to live without his brother before and wouldn't put himself or anyone else through that again.
Of course if Sam could hear him, then that meant his brother also knew what Dean would probably do if he died and he didn't want Sam holding on just to keep him alive.
"Get out," he told the Reaper in a tone that was pure Dean, rough and stern. "Unless you can tell me what's going on in his head or what it'll take to wake him up then I don't need you in here anymore. I…this is between us."
The Reaper started to object since his mission hadn't been called off but finally nodded. "Fine, I'll be outside but…whatever you do, do it quick."
Ignoring that, Dean laid his Colt and his switchblade on the bed within easy reach while taking a deep breath. "Makes me wish for a Ouija board to see if you could talk to me, Sam…but the asshole I just kicked outta here says you can hear me so if you can I hope you can hear this.
"I love you, little brother. No, I'm not possessed and yes, I said the three words you hardly ever heard growing up but I guess if you needed to hear them it would be now. I meant everything I told you earlier, Sammy. I'm sorry I let things get so damn bad between us that you thought that I didn't care if you lived or died because we both know how this will play out but…that's on me now," he offered another squeeze to Sam's hand before taking the switchblade to flick it open. "All of this is on me, Sam. Not you. None of this is your fault.
"It's time you let go of all the damn guilt because you never asked for any of this crap to hit you. You never asked for your childhood to be taken away, for Mom to die, for Dad to turn all Drill Sergeant or for any of the rest of it to happen," Dean applied enough pressure on his palm to draw blood before doing the same to Sam's palm without caring or considering any risk.
He pressed their palms together like he had when his little brother had seen it on TV once and went on a stubborn eight year old tirade that they needed to do the same ritual despite Dean's best attempts to tell him they were already blood brothers.
"I told you the day we did this the first time that it bonded us on a deeper level and while back then I said it because it seemed to be the right thing to say to make you happy, I'm saying that no matter if you're blood wasn't purged or anything it doesn't matter to me because the blood in your veins, Sammy, is that same blood that's in mine. We share that blood just like we do everything else and I'm not leaving you, choosing over you, or letting anything…Heaven, Hell, Angels, whatever, come between us again," he promised, holding onto the hand tightly and making his next decision.
"I've done everything I can now it's up to you, Sammy. I can't promise how you'll be when you wake up and I will say that no matter how you are that I'll be beside you to get you over it but…in the end, it's your choice. You can reach through whatever it is holding you back, reach for my hand and know that I'll always have your back.
"I will have your back on a hunt, I'll hold you up when you fall and…I'll kick the no chick flick moments rule to the curb for a year to handle the nightmares or aftereffects," Dean supposed he could handle that since he'd kicked that rule to the sidelines more times than he cared to count when his brother had been younger and hyper emotional. "Or…you can take the choice to move on and be at peace."
Dean heard his voice break on that one but swallowed the lump that came because it was time he thought of Sam and not himself, even though using the blood kind of diminished that idea. "I'll be truthful and say I don't want you to die but then you're my pain in the ass baby brother and that's my prerogative not to let you die but I also don't want you hanging on just because you're worried about me.
"You've done so much to take care of others and I'm proud of you, baby boy. I'm proud of the man you've become after everything you've faced and…it's time to think for yourself now, Sammy. It's time to choose for yourself and not for me or for Dad or for what we were taught but for you," the fingers of Dean's other hand shook this time as they went over Sam's face, feeling wetness from what he could've sworn were tears. "If you want to let go and go find that light then you let go. You let go of all of this and maybe you'll finally find the happy ever after I always told you existed out there somewhere."
Feeling and ignoring the tears on his face, Dean kept his eyes on Sam's face before finally shifting away a little to pick up the Colt. "You've done enough for this damn world, Sammy. We both have," he stared at the gun in his hand. "Y'know, I don't think I ever told you that if your soulless self wouldn't have showed up when he had I probably would've ended it by the end of that week.
"Sammy, you have saved my life so many damn times without even realizing it and…hell, who am I lying to, I want you to come home, little brother," he whispered, tears dropping onto his hand when he went to raise the Colt a little. "Come home, Sam."
Elsewhere:
"Hello, Sam. I've been waiting for you," Death rarely made an actual appearance but for some reason he made exceptions for the Winchesters, though he'd never actually spoken to the younger one before.
Gasping as his body sang out with pain and he could hear his brother's voice in the distance getting more to the point where desperation and stupidity often went hand in hand, Sam stared at the Angel of Death, the final Horseman raised by Lucifer.
Sam had faced a lot of things since learning the truth about his Dad's life, what he'd been destined to for, what had happened in the past few years but it had been a long time that anything but a clown could bring the type of fear that built in his heart now.
To see Death standing so casually in front of him as whatever the trials did worked painfully against his brother's attempts to pull him back, Sam closed his eyes.
"I…I thought I still had a chance of surviving," he murmured tightly, fingers wrapping tight to the bracelet on his wrist.
Death watched the younger man calmly. He could see the pain in him just like he could see what he'd been through recently and it never failed to amaze him that such normal humans could endure so much as these two young men had over the years.
It was his job to know when it was someone's time to die and yet for some reason he and the other powers that be always made exceptions for the Winchesters. Death had once explained to Dean the damage they'd done to natural selection and he also enjoyed teasing the older boy but Death had also seen the length to which Dean would go to save Sam.
Now he wanted to see how far Sam would be willing to go to save himself.
"You still have a chance, Sam," he confirmed with an easy nod, waving a hand to bring a hair closer as he sat while gazing as Sam and made another motion of a finger to relieve the pain. "If you decide to fight to return, if you choose to risk any side effects that may linger…that may affect you from your attempt to protect humanity, if you choose to go back to Dean…then you may. Or you can choose to finally let go of the pain and guilt and pass over."
Staring at Death warily, Sam rubbed his arm as he slowly stood up but realized his brother's voice was still getting louder. "What…what do you mean pass over? Like in die for real?" he shifted to keep some distance between himself and Death while also trying to see where Dean's voice was the loudest.
"Yes. You can choose to pass through the door to your left and go into the light," Death nodded to the door that suddenly appeared to Sam's left. "Granted Heaven's a little confused right now and I can't say for you how under the little toad's radar you'd be since anytime a Winchester enters Heaven it causes ripples but you might get lucky," he smoothed a hand over the handle of his cane.
"Even after everything I've done, what's in me or was in me or still is…I'd go to Heaven?" Sam asked hesitantly, a little unsure since he'd been certain no one would allow him into Heaven.
"Sam, even Death can pull strings and you still have certain friends in certain high places that would pull those strings to allow you the peace of death after all you've been through," the Angel of Death replied simply, cool eyes never leaving the hunter's face. "Of course, by choosing that choice you'd never see Dean again."
There was the look Death had been waiting for on the young man's face. The sudden look of pure fear and buried panic at the thought of never seeing his older brother again.
"What? Why?" Sam's mind only considered that peace for a half second because in some way he was worried about the affects lingering if her woke up and didn't want to be a burden on his brother. "If I can get into Heaven after the whole demon blood thing and letting Lucifer out then my brother, the original chosen vessel for Heaven's precious Michael, should have the same pass," he argued, grabbing a chair for stability when Death's hand moved and a window turned milky only to clear to give him a better view into the living world.
Sam's breath caught in his throat as he saw himself lying in a hospital bed attached to wires and monitors. He realized how bad he looked but as Sam looked closer it hit him hard how much worse his brother looked.
It always concerned Sam when Dean looked pale, haggard and unshaven because the only times his brother never shaved were times when Sam was too sick or hurt to be left alone or…Dean was scared to leave him.
Now as he viewed the hospital room from outside, he watched with tears in his eyes as his hard as nails, anti-emotional older brother held his hand while speaking in a broken voice and tears on his face.
Though what caught Sam's attention was the Colt that was in his brother's hand, realizing that Dean was telling him that he could move on if he wanted but it was the whispered 'come home' that tore Sam's heart.
"Suicide is frowned upon and even my pull wouldn't be enough to cross Dean over if he kills himself," Death told him grimly, stepping up to view the scene beside Sam. "He called to me earlier. Offered himself in your place if I spared your life from this."
Sam laid a hand on the window. "If I take the choice to cross…he'll die but if I go back he could be sidled with me if the effects of the trials stay with me," he wanted his brother but the fear of being a burden was strong.
"You would never be a burden to Dean, Sam," Death informed him, both watching Dean speak to Sam brokenly with a loaded weapon in his hand; intent plain. "He's willing to exchange his life for yours if I were to take him up on it.
"I can heal you with no effects and take Dean up on his offer or…"
"No," Sam snapped, whirling to face the gaunt man with a hand poised to grab his tie when a burst of remembering who and what this was hit him. "No, because I don't want to go back without my brother being there or knowing that he gave his life for me again. What…what do I have to do to choose to go back and you don't take him?" he demanded, going on quickly. "I'll accept whatever affects there have to be, I'll do whatever you want just…don't take Dean."
Death watched the scene in the window before it faded away slowly to gaze at Sam thoughtfully. "I'm curious Sam, what exactly would you do to save your life?" he asked finally. "I know what Dean has done to save you, and while some may see it as foolish or stupid I see it as more of just saving you from more pain in the long run but the question is…what would you do?"
"Nothing," Sam replied simply, fingers once again closing on the bracelet. "Ask me what I'll do to save my brother because then I'd give you anything that I could. I'm not saying that I want to die because I don't. I'm not ready.
"I don't want him to deal with the consequences of whatever this will bring alone and I don't want Dean dead either so tell me what I have to do to save us both or take us both," he shrugged as he felt an odd sensation of warmth for the first time since waking up here. "I guess it's an either or thing, Sir. I won't live or die without him. Maybe everyone is right about this codependent thing but it's all I know."
Death walked back to the fireplace slowly to consider this interesting turn. "What's happening now, the influx upstairs isn't actually your fault for a change," he told Sam grimly, turning around. "Tell your brother the next time he calls to bargain with me to bring along some fried pickles at least and…the door behind me will take you home, Sam."
"Huh?" Sam blinked in confusion. "Just like that? I can go home and you won't take Dean?"
"Ah, now there's the Winchester suspicion that I've been waiting to see in you," Death's lips actually seemed to curve a little. "I don't think either side is ready to handle Dean. He seems much happier if you're with him. Plus, it was your choice this time to stay or go home as you say so if that truly is your choice then step through the door behind me and remember…whatever Dean does it's always with your best interest at heart."
Sam was still uncertain but when he heard Dean's tone drop again he didn't care what he'd face. He just wanted to go home and hopefully make this right.
Stepping to the door behind Death, the younger hunter closed his hand over the knob to turn it slowly. Sam opened it to the familiar rushing white light sensation and then…
Back in the room:
The steady noise in the room didn't change and after waiting several heartbeats, Dean blew out a shaky breath before whispering a silent goodbye to the brother he'd raised and protected while going to shove the gun under his jacket until he was sure he was alone when a slight movement under his hand had him looking down.
"Sam? Sammy?" he spoke softly as if worried he hadn't seen the movement of fingers around his. "You coming back, little brother?"
The monitors seemed to pick up in activity but it seemed like forever as Dean's eyes watched before he finally caught what he'd been waiting for. He saw the first little movement behind Sam's closed lids as his lashes fluttered a few times before struggling to open.
"Sammy?" he gripped the hand that was trying to return the action tighter, wanting to offer reassurance that his brother wasn't alone as he tried to wake up. "That's it, kiddo. Come on out all the way and look at me now."
The pain he'd been in since meeting Death in the dreamscape had ebbed off the surer Sam became with his choice of returning to his body and to his brother even though making that final grab toward Dean had nearly seemed impossible at times he's finally pierced the veil when Dean's voice broke.
Death had made it plain that things were all messed up and for once it wasn't their entire fault but he'd mainly wanted to tell Sam to inform Dean to stop trying to make deals with him without at least offering some decent fried pickles.
Sam wasn't sure what his brother had been doing but he could guess it probably wasn't good. Right then though all he wanted was to feel his body and take the consequences of whatever happened or would happen so long as he wasn't alone.
His lashes fluttering against his cheek, Sam's eyes slowly opened to blink several times before his vision was able to clear the haziness away to see worried upset green eyes as Dean stared down at him and for Sam to see his brother right now meant… "… …Home."
Three Days Laters, some unknown woods:
"Remind me again how in the hell I let you talk me into this?" Dean grumbled, balancing two much crap on his back and in his arms since he'd decided he wasn't making more trips than he had to. "What was wrong with a warm bed in the bunker since you just got out of the damn hospital?"
He dropped the duffels, the extra bags of stuff he'd determined they could not live without for a night while slitting his eyes. "Where'd that bag of marshmallows go?"
"You gave in because you're an awesome big brother and it's what I wanted to do before we got sucked into the whole Heaven falling problem," Sam went to move to help his brother only to shoot him a bitchface when a single finger shot out to warn him to stay where he'd been put. "I'm not an invalid, Dean."
"No, you nearly died, nearly had me convinced you weren't waking up, and you'll still weak so just stay put while I see if I can actually remember how to put this damn thing together," Dean shot back, eyeing the pieces of the large tent he'd bought when finally giving in to his little brother's puppy eyed plea to go camping again. "Why couldn't we have slept in the Impala?"
Sam ignored that because he'd already answered that near whine six other times. He'd been surprised when Dean had given in to his out of the blue request since he'd gotten the hint early on when his brother had snarled multiple times at the confused doctors that Dean was back in hyper manic over protective big brother state.
Waking up had been slow and explaining it to the confused doctors hadn't been easy but after a day of final testing came back with no conclusive results, they'd allowed Sam to sign himself out with just warnings to watch for relapses.
He still felt tired and weak most of the time but each day Sam did feel stronger. He was pleased there hadn't been any pain like before and hoped after a while the weakness in his hand and legs would go away so he could hunt without fear of putting Dean at risk.
Right then he was sitting on a log in front of the fire Dean had built first sneaking marshmallows from the bag while watching his brother struggle with the tent.
Sam hadn't asked Dean anything else about what happened after he passed out nor had Dean asked him anything though he knew the questions would come sooner or later. He'd just decided to follow his Dad's advice and ask Dean to take him camping.
Even though they had more important things to do, a prophet back at the bunker wielding a crossbow and the King of Hell under lockdown, Sam wanted this small time after nearly losing it.
"Why would you even want to come camping in the middle of the woods?" Dean was asking even if he really didn't mind the plan…not that he'd ever admit that. "I could've put a tent up somewhere in the Batcave and burnt hotdogs if that would make you happy."
"Dad said he wouldn't have burnt those hotdogs if you hadn't tried to make me bait for something," Sam spoke up, not missing the way Dean tensed before shifting enough to look at him closely. "Dad's the one who said to tell you to take me camping."
Running his tongue over his teeth at that announcement, Dean guessed he shouldn't have been surprised. "Yeah, well…it kept you outta the way while he got the tents up," he muttered, stepping back to see if the tent in question would stay up and grinned when it did. "You saw Dad?"
"I saw Dad, Ellen and…Jess," Sam was quiet when he admitted the last name but again also didn't miss the definite way his brother's shoulders tensed this time. "Why didn't you ever tell me, Dean?" he asked softly, fingers running over the thing that he'd found in his other hand upon waking up.
"Tell you what?" Dean deadpanned with a bad feeling he suspected his brother had picked up a couple things he hadn't been supposed to know. "You going to give me those marshmallows to cook later or should I just be glad I bought two bags?"
Sam's fingers tightened on the bag in a clear answer that he wasn't giving them up before answering. "Why didn't you tell me the real reason you came to Stanford that night?"
"I did. Dad was missing and I didn't want to look for him alone," Dean countered but sighed heavily when he went to turn only to be hit in the face with a marshmallow. "Cute. Your aim's getting better."
"Jess called you, Dean. Why didn't you tell me that?" Sam asked again, suspecting he knew the answer but still needing to see if his brother would admit it.
Gazing at Sam for a couple seconds before popping the marshmallow in his mouth, Dean decided he seriously hated ghosts that liked to talk. "Because I didn't want it to hurt you," he finally replied, going to sit on the ground in front of the fire but in front of the log where Sam sat. "I knew at first you would've gotten angry that I was checking up on you and that's all I meant it to be at first.
"Jessica's call caught me offguard but…some stuff she said made me worried so I said I'd come to check it out. Then Dad vanished so I used that as an excuse and I figured I'd check on things in Stanford after but it didn't work out like that," tossing a couple more sticks into the fire, Dean kept his eyes on it rather than Sam for the moment. "After the fire, after Jessica died, I didn't tell you about her fears or why I was there because I knew you felt guilty enough and I wasn't going to add to it."
He turned enough so that he could look up into Sam's eyes, seeing the expected sadness but not the anger he expected though. "She was worried about you, Sammy. That's why she called me and why I came. I wish I could've seen the danger for what it was and maybe saved her from…"
"No, Jess was right when she said nothing I could've done would've saved her. I think Brady probably had decided to kill her even before we met," easing off the log to sit beside Dean, Sam offered the bag of fluffy snacks. "I loved her, Dean…but she was right. I wasn't happy."
Dean opened his mouth but shut it to allow Sam to speak at his own speed, putting a hand on the back of his brother's neck in unspoken comfort.
"I'd always wanted to go to school, to be normal but until the night I got on the bus I never once considered that it would cost me my family," he glanced over at Dean, the emotion plain in his hazel eyes. "I missed Dad but I missed you the most. I missed hunting with you and…I think even if Jess and I had gotten married, if I had gone to Law school…I wouldn't have been happy.
"I was happy the night you came. I was thrilled to see you even though I didn't let on and…so many times on the way back to Stanford from Jericho I wanted to say that I'd go with you but…it was so hard to let go of what I'd said I wanted," Sam's eyes blurred as he blinked the tears away. "If you hadn't come back…"
"I went back because I was going to tell you the real reason I was there, Sammy," Dean spoke up, using the hand on Sam's neck to ease his brother against his shoulder to feel the cold that made Sam shiver. "When the radio started acting up I knew something was wrong. I wish I hadn't left you there. I wish I'd gone up to the apartment with you and maybe…"
Sam allowed himself to relax against Dean's shoulder even though he still wouldn't release the bag of marshmallows fully. "Jess said she was gone even before I got home. Brady got her as she was leaving the campus so…I couldn't have saved her," he yawned and cursed the sleepiness he still felt. "I still felt the guilt of failing her but…it made it a little better to know that she didn't blame me or hate me and that she…knew I wasn't happy."
"I wish it could've been different for you, Sammy," Dean told him, still seeing the same boy in his brother as he had that night in Stanford. "I meant it when I said I sometimes wish you could have that innocence back."
"We can't change what was meant to be, Dean," Sam yawned again, rubbing at his eyes. "I miss her but it's time I stop living in the past and look to the now. We have fallen Angels on Earth and all the rest of this crap to handle but…Dean? Can you stop bugging Death? He scares the crap outta me."
Chuckling a little, Dean nodded. "Yeah, well I'll stop bugging Death when my pain in the ass little brother stops scaring me," he returned lightly, reaching into the bag for a pack of hotdogs and some metal sticks to cook them on. "You wanna burn these now or sleep first?"
"Burnt hotdogs then marshmallows then sleep," Sam smiled but then his eyes lit as he gazed between the two foods only to have his brother finally gain control of the now half empty bag.
"No, don't even think it or else when we get back to civilization I am having your stomach x-rayed," Dean flat out refused what he could clearly see building on Sam's face. "We are not putting the marshmallows on the hotdogs and get your hand off the bag with the chocolate in it cause I'm the one with the weird eating habits," he smirked at the mild bitchface. "Unknown side effect I don't know about?"
"Or the effect of not eating for how many days?" Sam countered but settled back to allow Dean to stick the hotdogs on the two sticks, the collar of his jacket turned up against the evening chill. "Oh, I think this is yours…if you want it, that is. If you meant what you said."
Giving a sideways glance to see what Sam was holding from his hand, Dean had to make a sudden grab to not lose either stick into the fire as he took in the horned bronze amulet dangling. "Sonuvabitch," he whispered, reaching out to brushing the amulet he'd foolishly thrown away more than three years ago his eyes shot to see Sam watching him with hope in his own gaze. "Can I…"
"I gave it to you and as far as I'm concerned it's still yours…if you want it back," Sam murmured, lump in his throat while watching the flashes of emotions crossing Dean's face. "It hurt so much when you dropped it in that can. I took it out but never felt safe giving it back to you. Do you want it back, De'n?"
Sitting the food aside to first gently remove the black cord from his brother's clenched fingers; Dean slipped the amulet back around his neck before reaching out to pull Sam in for a hug. "Worst mistake I ever made was throwing this away, Sammy and I regretted it as soon as I did it," he replied thickly, feeling Sam's arms shaking when they finally went around him to hold on and finally the emotions that his brother had buried for months came out with a broken sob he tried to cover. "I'll never take this off again, little brother."
The fear of not making it back, of not getting to come home had been huge in Sam but he'd covered it. Even after waking up he hadn't been able to tell Dean how scared he'd been at not making it back and while he suspected his brother had done something else to help him he wasn't asking for the moment and would take this time for what it was and for what it brought.
"I just wanted to come home, Dean," he spoke after a couple minutes of silence, not breaking his grip on Dean when he realized his older brother had sat back and was allowing the scene to take place. "I was so damn scared and just wanted you there but…"
"I was right there with you, Sammy," Dean assured him, shifting Sam so he could still keep an arm around him to support him when he felt him leaning into him more while using his other to hold the hotdogs over the fire to cook them…or burn them, whatever came first. "I wouldn't have left you alone for long but you did come home and we're gonna find Cas and deal with whatever the hell is going on just like we always have."
"Together," Sam murmured, fingers closing over the amulet like he would years ago. "Hunting things, saving people, the family business. I want that again, Dean."
Dean knew it probably wouldn't be that simple but he'd give Sam what he could and fight to keep the kid safe from whatever came at them because he wasn't losing Sam like he'd almost lost him again. "As soon as we fix Heaven and figure out what to do with Crowley in our dungeon…that's what we'll be doing, Sammy," he promised with a sigh. "Burnt hotdogs."
Sam's laugh was pure as he took in the nearly black hotdog but as he ate it he could feel their Father's gaze from somewhere and knew it was all good again. "I still think Dad would've let me put it between marshmallows," he teased lightly, feeling the light slap to his head but not caring since it also got his brother to laugh.
"Dad might have but I at least know what makes your stomach tick and you are not eating that…bitch," Dean countered, grabbing for the back with chocolate and graham crackers in it. "I'll show you how to eat marshmallows right while camping."
"Jerk, and I know how to make S'mores," Sam tossed back, sleepy but happy and hoping it stayed that way as he watched Dean make a mess and glad he made the choice he had to come home.
Later that night, Dean lay awake on top of his sleeping bag while watching to make sure Sam would stay asleep after his brother finally fell to sleep after too much chocolate and marshmallows.
Sam still looked pale but most of the sick shallowness in his face was being replaced and while Dean knew it would take his brother time to regain his strength and lost health but he felt good that Sam would get better and would take what came from the blood injection when it happened so long as Sam was alive and smiling for the moment.
He reached over to pull the blanket up over Sam after he'd tossed it aside to also keep a hand on his brother's neck to feel him relax more. "Thanks for coming home, Sammy…and I'll keep this promise. It's going to be better from now on…cause I'm also making you explain crap to Cas when he starts asking."
A little brother, a prophet, a quirky redhead, since Dean was sure Charlie should be landing on his doorstep soon, and an Angel with no clue how to be human were all sure to remind Dean why he picked a bad decade to slow down his drinking he was sure.
The End
A/NII: Thanks for reading this one. I hope you enjoyed it and the risk to Sam didn't scar anyone too badly. Remember, if you'd like look me up on Facebook under morgana07 and watch for new stories coming soon.