Disclaimer: It's obvious. The boys are not mine, but I'm theirs, always.
Co-author: My beloved bia1007
Beta: My awesome PsiChic

a/n: Hey there! I'm sorry the updates had taken so long. My life had been pretty busy lately with my sis's marriage. Not to mention I had a massive ultra big writer's block with this chapter. Luckily I had such dilligent co-author. Don't think I'ld be able to finish this chap without her. I'm sorry and really hoped the delay didn't turn your interest off. To redeem myself, I gave my heart all out in here and hoped you'd enjoy reading. Love ya!

Chapter 12

"The cure has a price…a very high price."

Sam gulped nervously. Here we go again.

"What price?"

"There's an ancient ritual written in Clavicula Salomonis that we could use to heal Dean." Jack came forward. He eyed Dean and prayed his thanks for the kid coming around. These last hours had been torture – not only for Sam, but for him as well. Meeting Dean's scrutinizing eyes, Jack retreated. He cleared his throat and continued "We figured this ritual might work."

"Clavicula Salomonis?" Matt didn't think he ever heard of the name before.

"Lesser Key of Solomon." Bobby tensely answered. "The devil's trap is from it."

"Oh…" was Sam's reply, obviously in awe of Bobby – the supernatural walking library most hunters would call him. "What was the ritual for?"

Bobby and Jack exchanged hesitant glances.

"The ritual is to conjure a Goetic demon, Buer." Jack explained. "This Buer fella' is the Great President of Hell, summoned among the witches often to bring health and to heal infirmities." He gulped nervously. As much as he desired for Dean's wellbeing, he was well aware they were risking their necks here.

The words demon and hell didn't sound appealing to both Winchesters – at least not to Dean.

"You mean in order to save Dean, we have to summon a demon?" Sam felt his blood run cold. "I smell something bad coming up."

"And you hit the jackpot." Bobby wished the ritual didn't involve conjuring a demon from hell. Every single demon out there was pursuing them now. Summoning one of them was like ringing their dinner bell. He swallowed the lump in his throat and looked away. What is it with the Winchesters? Why couldn't God grant them some peace?

Knowing Bobby's attempt to hide his worry was going down the drain, Jack continued, "As clichéd as any demon summoning ritual might sound, evocating Buer demands an offering."

"What offering?" Matt blurted out before Sam even had the chance to blink. Even Jack was stunned at how eager his youngest seemed to be.

"Blood." Bobby answered gravely. "Human blood."

Matt swallowed dryly and studied Sam – waiting for at least one line of worry to appear on the youngest Winchester's forehead. But as he had anticipated, none showed. If the situation had not been so critical, Matt would have smiled.

"Take mine, as much as you need!" Sam offered without hesitation.

Hearing Sam's eager answer made something inside Kyle stir. When he first found out about the ritual, he'd been pessimistic. It sounded so grim, Kyle thought Sam would think twice about doing it. But reconsidering, Kyle wouldn't hesitate himself if it was Matt in Dean's place.

"That's not all Sam," Jack wearily shook his head.

"There's more?" Again Matt acted as Sam's spokesperson.

"When summoned, Buer is a powerful demon and to control him the conjurer must be more powerful than Buer himself." Bobby squeezed Sam's shoulder. When he had found the ritual, Bobby knew immediately who the opponent would be. Only Sam met all the conditions of the ritual. "And stronger means the conjurer has to be one with the purest of heart whose love for the sick is unconditional."

"There is also a risk." Jack didn't want to give the brothers false hope. "If anyhow the conjurer is not strong enough or he's weakening in the middle of the ritual the Buer will inflict harm on him and will try to bargain with the conjurer...and your soul will be at stake."

"Not to mention the demon then will run free and inflict harm on the one you're intending to save," Bobby continued. He had to be the one who broke the bad news. The boys seemed to handle bad news better when it came from him. "It's either you or Dean - or…we could lose you both."

Sam didn't pause for a second to respond.

"Whatever you need Bobby." Sam had volunteered himself even before Bobby and Jack explained the conditions of the ritual. "You need my blood, take it…you need my body, my soul, hell, I don't give a damn."

Bobby looked at Sam with solemn eyes. If anyone had a pure heart and an undivided love for anyone, it was these two brothers. They were willing to go to hell for each other. Bobby's heart ached knowing he might lose one of the boys or both if the ritual should fail.

"But I give a damn!".

Everyone had forgotten him. They looked at Dean who looked back with red-rimmed eyes and face flushed with fury.

"Dean?" Sam reached out but Dean swatted his hand away.

"To hell if you don't give a damn about your life, because I do!" Dean cried and was left breathless with the effort. "I'm not going to let you risk yourself for something this stupid!" The big brother's commanding tone was evident in his raspy voice.

"You know nothing good comes out from making a deal with a fuckin' demon." Dean had had enough of dealing with demons.

"Buer is different from the crossroad demon Dean." No one knew Dean better than Sam and Bobby. And he was well aware of what Dean was thinking. "We're not making a deal here…we are challenging him to a fight."

"What's so different about demons?!" There was no sign of surrender in Dean's tone. Despite of his labored breathing and movement, Dean was pretty determined not to lose this argument. "They are…demons, the armies of hell!" 40 years of experience down in the pit taught him well that there are no good sides of demons – making him both vengeful and terrified about them. He would fight them – his purpose to protect others, most of the time though he wished he just could avoid meeting any of them.

"Dean…this is the only chance we have." Sam tried begging. "Please…you're dying!" It was a little brother's plea.

"That doesn't mean you have to die with me, Sammy." Dean clutched at his chest. There was a terrible pounding building up in his ribcage. His lungs seemed to be running out of air. No! No! Not now. He knew if he'd give in now, Sam would win the argument. Dean turned to Bobby, looking with despair at the older hunter as if asking Bobby to back him up.

"Sam…" Bobby knew that look so well. He also knew Sam would never give in. But he'd try for Dean – to sooth him – though Bobby pretty much hoped Sam would win the argument. He loved both boys and couldn't afford to lose one of them, but if anyone was strong enough to fight Buer and save Dean, it would be Sam. Only Sam. Bobby couldn't think of anyone else.

"No Bobby!"

Bobby had expected this.

"Sammy…this is not worth you dying." Dean said near crying. The pain was getting intense and he was not sure he could keep it up much longer. His vision was blurring and he was losing his fight to stay conscious.

"What's not worth me dying? You?!"

Dean choked on his own breath.

"Dean, how could you think so lowly of yourself?" Sam had to let off some steam. He was tired, near total exhaustion. Not because of the lack of rest, but for watching his brother writhing in agony over the last few hours. He was scared to death, not of the risks he was willing to take, but of the possibility of losing Dean. "Did it ever occur to you that you are everything to me…that you are my world?"

"Didn't I tell you or show you enough how much you mean to me?" He would not give in this time. Never again.

"I need you Dean…as much as you needed me." His sorrow was so devastating, Sam felt like crying. Why was it so hard for Dean to realize how much his Sammy needed him? They were grown-ups now and Sam couldn't act like little Sammy anymore – who'd cry, pout or who'd put up a tantrum to show he needed his big brother by his side to assure him that everything was going to be okay.

"Or did you think I was not fit for the job? That I don't love you enough?" Frustration and hurt accompanied Sam's sobs. "You doubted that I love you more than anyone else in the world…that I'm not willing to give up everything just to have you coming back to me?"

Dean shook his head frantically. Thinking Sam would put something above him was the last thing that would cross Dean's mind – but Sam did put his vengeance against Lilith above him, and Ruby...oh God! His brother had kept secrets from him. Maybe Sam had his reasons – that maybe all this while Dean had refused to understand. They were both in pain, and Dean realized he was thinking only of his own pain, not considering a little bit Sam's side.

"No Sammy…I didn't mean it that way." Gasping for air, Dean blinked back the tears that were pooling in his eyes. He was unsure whether these were tears induced by the physical pain or simply tears of grief.

"Then what, Dean?" Sam was pushing hard. He would win this argument and if he didn't he would drug Dean to sleep. Nothing could stop him now. This time he would save his big brother. He would allow no angels and no crossroad bitch to play their part in saving Dean, and hopefully no more deals would be made in this rescue mission.

"I don't want you to die with me!"

"But I want to!!" Sam confirmed and Dean felt his lungs compressing. "I'll be at your side and die with you if that's the last thing I do…at least it is better than seeing you die and not be able to do anything about it."

Teary green eyes locked on hazel ones.

"I can't lose you Dean." Sam pled. "Not again."

Dean was speechless seeing tears streaming down his little brother's cheeks. He had never really realized how painful it was for Sam when he was not around. Not until now.

"Sammy…" Deancalled as he reached out for Sam, wanting to brush the tears away. His little brother needed comforting and he was determined to be a big brother again but a white hot pain seared up in his head, making Dean jerk away; banging his head to the wall violently, as if to scare the pain away. He groaned in agony and bit his lips to suppress a moan as he felt his body convulse. Dean cried, more of hating the fact Sam had to see him like this – fragile and needy – than of the pain itself.

Then again, maybe this time he should trust Sam - his brother would make everything better. Maybe for this one time, he should let Sam save him. This time he wished to be saved –his soul to be spared – because he still had a little brother to look out for and his whole life never could be worthless with Sammy around. Dean saw it now, that he was important – he meant something – to someone. And this someone was Sam.

"Dean!!" the younger men called out at the same time. Jack in a desperate attempt was pumping morphine into Dean's system and the drug worked its wonder. The convulsions stopped and Dean looked much more peaceful than before.

Sam grasped Dean's hand and felt his brother cling to him as if looking for a lifeline. His brother held him so tight, Sam felt himself shudder with worry. Dean clung to him for comfort and for reassurance when all the time they'd grown up, his big brother always had been the provider. Sam was glad - for once, Dean needed him. But he was anxious as well. What if he failed Dean?

"Hang in there bro," Sam whispered and he felt Dean's fingers curl around his palm. His brother had heard him. "We'll be okay…I promise." And Sam was glad he said that as Dean slowly edged away from consciousness.

"I believe you Sammy," were the last words slipping out Dean's mouth before he finally closed his eyes and fell into drug-induced oblivion.

The words sounded so different from those he'd heard after Dean's return from hell after Sam had apologized for not being the one who pulled Dean out of the pit. Then, when Dean said "I believe you, Sammy," Sam had felt his heart break. He interpreted it as Dean saying 'Yeah Sam! I knew it couldn't have been you who pulled me out'. It felt like his brother never really trusted him of being capable to be his savior.

And Sam got his strength from those words of trust. He would never fail Dean. He'd make sure the ritual worked. He'd make sure both of them would come out safe. Sam grasped Dean's hand tighter and looked up to Bobby and Jack – somehow looking into the older men's eyes gave him comfort and assured him that they had his back covered. The youngest Winchester couldn't help but wonder how Dean and him had became so close to Jack and his boys in such a short time.

"Let's do it." His voice was firm and steady. He'd found his strength and he was not going to let go.

Only Sam never realized that the other men had found their strength in him.

……………………………….

"Is everything ready?" Bobby made a final round up.

Everything in the living room had been moved away, leaving the space eerily empty.

In the center of the room, on the wooden floor, a large circle was drawn with a smaller one within. Placed on top of the diagram was the Triangle of the Art, which Bobby and Jack said would be the place the demon would appear. The circle had many sacred names of God written in the inside border and in the center of the circle were the names of the Alpha and the Omega along with four hexagrams.

"The candles are set!" Kyle looked up as he lit a candle in the last pentagram. There were four pentagrams altogether, one in each corner of the circle. He stood up and studied the diagram that had taken his old man and Bobby almost half an hour to draw, and couldn't help feeling in awe. Across him, squatting on the floor, lighting the last candle, was Matt who looked as amazed as Kyle.

The Callahan boys mentally admitted that they were scared for two reasons. One, this was the first time they were going to witness a demon conjuring ritual. Usually any ritual they had encountered always involved banishing demons residing in human hosts. Tonight they were going to summon a demon straight from hell on purpose. Second, they feared the worst was going to happen to the Winchester boys. The slightest mistake or flaw could endanger Sam and Dean

"The altar's done." Sam called as he placed the Buer's sigil on the altar.

"Finished." Jack drew the last line of the protection circle around the couch where Dean was lying. The older Winchester was out for good – still oblivious to everything in his morphine-induced sleep. "Be strong son…" He whispered as he brushed Dean's forehead with his thumb. Caressing the boy's head, he silently prayed they are doing the right thing.

"Shall we start?" Bobby looked at everyone. No one responded to him, so he took it as a yes.

"What about the blood Bobby?" Sam stepped out of the circle, already feeling creepy though the ritual hasn't even started yet. As he walked towards Bobby, his eyes lingered on Dean – heart filled with hope to see his big brother back on his feet. Sam approached Bobby, at the same time rolling up his sleeve – ready to give his blood.

The older hunter eyed Sam from under his cap. "We need to fill this bowl." He took out a small bowl and cringed at the thought of it being filled with Sam's blood. "It doesn't have to be your blood you know?" He watched warily as Sam reached for the dagger.

"If not mine whose blood then?" Sam smiled tightly. He was about to slice his arm when a steadier hand gripped his. Before he even got the chance to retort, the dagger was taken away from his grasp. Then another hand grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Save your energy dude!" Kyle was standing next to him, smiling an honest to God smile. The auburn haired Callahan slightly squeezed his shoulder, making Sam's frantic heartbeats return to normal.

"Blood loss would tire you," Matt said with a wink. To Sam's horror, the youngest Callahan ran the blade across his arm, cutting it without a flinch. Sam was speechless as he watched Matt's blood drip into the bowl.

"Matt…" He was cut short when Matt handed the dagger to Kyle. Again Sam was petrified seeing the other Callahan slice his arm and bleed himself, letting the blood flow from the cut into the bowl. No pain was shown on the brothers' faces, making Sam wonder whether they were feeling the pain at all.

"What are you doing?!"

"Let's just say we want fair shares in this deal." Kyle looked up to Bobby and when the older man nodded, he pressed a washcloth on Matt's cut and another one on his own arm.

"You shouldn't have done that." Guilt washed over Sam. The bowl now was filled with blood, the Callahans' blood.

"Come on dude…don't start that pansy talk." Kyle elbowed Sam's side. "You should get ready to conjure that Buer guy."

"Yeah, and this is the best we can do to help." Matt smiled. "The rest's up to you Sam."

Matt was grateful he finally had the chance to make up to Dean and Sam for his failing and was even more thankful when Kyle agreed to help him. Kyle – who always had been so pessimistic towards whatever his little brother was about to do – had shockingly immediately agreed to Matt's plan to contribute for the ritual. His expectation had been entirely wrong; when he'd told Kyle of his plan, he thought Kyle would freak out completely and try to stop him. But as soon as Matt had finished telling him, Kyle nodded his agreement, saying "Just don't bleed yourself to death…we don't want your blood all over the floor and I don't want to be the one to clean it up."

"You're a jerk!" was Matt's way of saying thank you.

Looking at his sons, Jack's lips curled into a small smile. It was amazing to see his boys bonding with the Winchesters. If only they knew how close their fathers had been and the boys when they were young. Kyle and Sam apparently grew up together and had shared the same nursery. Dean on the other hand was the younger ones' little protector. To see them all together again brought back good memories. 'Wished Jenny was here to see this.' Jack wished all, Jenny, John and Mary were here to witness this.

Jack cleared his throat and called "Sam! Cm'here." He motioned for Sam to stand by the altar in the center of the circle. Sam obeyed and walked over to Jack. The oldest Callahan handed the shaggy haired Winchester the book of Solomon, opening the page with the conjuring spell.

"You know what to do?" Jack asked, pretty anxious himself. Sam was close enough being his son; he feared for the boy's safety – as much as he would fear for Matt's and Kyle's.

Sam nodded without looking up from the book.

"Whatever you do, don't let it bargain with you…and don't step out of the circle." Jack reminded and he emphasized it with a firm squeeze to Sam's shoulder.

"Okay." Hazel eyes peeked through the unruly brown bangs, and Jack thought he'd seen the little Sammy looking up to him all over again.

"Don't worry Sammy…everything's going to be fine." He assured and couldn't help being fatherly over the boy he used to regard as his own. May be he still did.

Sam was confused. Things were starting to get a bit strange with the Callahans. It was as if he had known them for so long – not just since Stanford, but long before that. Jack calling him Sammy one of the reasons he thought so. No one and he meant no one other than Dean ever called him Sammy and got away unscathed. Now Jack called him Sammy and he was okay with it. Sam made a mental note to get back to that later.

Jack gave him another reassuring squeeze and stepped out of the circle. The middle aged man moved into the other protection circle, joining Bobby and his sons. Now Sam was standing in the center of the Solomon Circle with the Key of Solomon book in his hand.

Sam took one long look at Dean and sighed deeply. Whatever would happen tonight, he was willing to do it– for Dean. Without thinking any further, Sam opened the Key of Solomon and lit the incenses on the altar. The essence of sandalwood, jasmine, and lavender filled the air. Life works in weird ways, to summon a demon – known for its hellish qualities – human offered sweet heavenly scents.

Taking a deep breath, as if it was going to be his last, Sam dropped the potion Bobby had mixed into the bowl of blood and started reciting the spell.

"I evoke and conjure thee, O spirit Buer by the highest and supreme majesty that thou shall appear before me in the Solomon Triangle in a fair and comely shape. Thou shall obey me or thou shall forever suffer in torture and agony for ye defiance."

He waited and nothing happened. Looking at his companions, Sam heaved his shoulders. As he began to repeat the spell, a cold wind swooshed through the door, bringing in dust and dried leaves. Sam shielded his eyes from the offending wind and got back to the spell.

"Sam…" Matt called, voice filled with tremors.

Sam looked at Matt and saw him pointing towards the Solomon triangle. Once his eyes fell upon the spot, Sam caught his breath. There in the triangle, a figure was materializing. It started with a cloud of murky black smoke and slowly formed a human figure.

Sam continued with the spell as he kept wary eyes on the figure.

"In peace I welcome you, O spirit Buer, and in the name of the powerful virtue of the Most High, I command thee to stay within this triangle until thou art dismissed, to perform for me, to assist me, in the tasks that I put before thee."

The smoke finally built up into a steady handsome middle aged man wearing a tux. Looking up to Sam, he smiled grimly.

"My my…who do we have here?" Buer clicked his tongue. "Sam Winchester, the son of John Winchester and the brother of Dean, the Dean."

Sam flinched a little hearing how the demon addressed him, his father and Dean. Guess the Winchesters had gained popularity down there that all demons knew them so well. When he called upon a goetic demon, he never imagined it would be another ordinary demon that they encountered every day. He had done his research, and knew Buer was often portrayed as having the head of a lion and five goat legs surrounding his body. But Sam asked for it to appear in a dignified manner, so here was Buer, dressed much like a gentleman.

"What do you want?" The demon asked with a voice as loud as thunder.

"Heal my brother." Sam couldn't fight the hatred towards demon that forever resided in him. He might have worked with Ruby, but he never liked her anyway. He was basically using her.

Buer raised a brow, stretched his neck and glanced at Dean. "Well, well…seems to me Alistair was not doing a very good job." Again, the demon smirked. "You know, your brother was pretty popular down there…I have to admit, I did pay him a visit, it was fun…well, to me it was."

Sam bit his lips. His concentration was drifting off. He could strangle the demon right away. Sam was about to step off the circle when Bobby hollered his name out loud.

"Sam…he tries to distract you! Keep your head in the game!"

As if he was struck by lightning, Sam jolted up. Suddenly realizing he was losing it.

The demon that was ranked as president of hell studied Sam intently and snorted. "You Winchesters are just stubborn." He crackled grimly. "Your father never went off the rack…and my, he had guts! But your brother…40 years and he gave up."

"Who could stand being ripped apart, then to be restored only to be ripped apart…again and again." Being a true demon, Buer would never submit before tantalizing his opponent. "I bet your brother never really told you how he truly felt when he was down there." He wriggled his brows mischievously.

Sam swallowed back his anger that was fast building up in him.

"Oh yeah…he was protecting you." Not yet giving up on tricking Sam into stepping out of the circle, Buer added more insults to the injuries. "And did he ever tell you how much he missed you…I mean, he screamed your name every… single... second."

"Sam!! Sam!! Sammy!!!" Buer imitated Dean's voice in a way it made Sam shivers. It was like listening to Dean himself. "You should have listened to him…oh! I forgot!"

"Big brother Dean sacrificed himself for his little Sammy…and rotted in hell for 40 years!"

"You son of a…!" Sam was about to scram towards the demon when he heard a much familiar voice.

"Sammy! No!"

Sam turned around abruptly, studying the figure lying on the couch. Dean was awake!

"Dean!" Sam called.

"Stay...stay in there." Dean groaned.

"Ooh…touchy touchy." Buer teased. "Big brother Dean forever taking care of little Sammy."

"You heal him now!" Sam ordered. He couldn't take more of this. Dean was getting worse and he himself was losing it. The summoning was eating up his energy. He could feel his senses shutting off.

"And what will I get?"

"Your life!" Sam stared at the demon, eyes full of hatred and vengeance.

"In the name of the Most High, I inflicted upon thee the torments and suffering for ye defiance against me. If thou shall not obey me, thou shalt be vanquished with thy fire of hell."

Buer writhed uncomfortably and then wailed in agony as an invisible fire burnt him up.

"Here I asked ye, will thou obey me?!"

"Stop it! I'll do it!" Buer fell down to his knees. Nothing burned on him but the fire was there. It was evident through the smoke and steam lingering on his suit and skin.

"Now!" It had to be now, Sam was getting weaker by the minute.

The demon raised and started chanting. At the same time, Dean fell from the couch on the floor, trashing violently. His limbs flailed aimlessly in the air, his back jerking and arching in the most terrible manner, and his mouth spilled fresh blood.

"What have you done?!" Sam was ready to read the banishing spell.

"Sam, wait!" Kyle's yell stopped him.

Sam casted an observant glance on his brother. Dean had finally stopped trashing and now was sleeping peacefully. His chest moved in a steady rhythm. His skin was back to a healthier color and no longer that deadly dull shade of blue.

"Heh…Sam, are you strong enough to send me back?" Buer realized something Sam didn't.

"What?"

"Looks like you're losing it."

Instantly Sam felt something wet dripping from his nose. He ran a sleeved arm across his face and flinched at the sight of blood on the sleeve of his favorite hoodie. Suddenly, a loud ringing sounded in his ears. Sam doubled over, clutching at his ears - the book of Solomon falling to the floor.

"Oh God!!" He wailed painfully.

"Sam!!" His companions called for him desperately. From the corner of his eyes, Sam could see his friends shouting his name, begging him to get a hold of himself. But fatigue was overtaking him, making his vision blurry.

"Sorry Sam…God's not here to help." Buer was getting stronger. Any second now.

'Sorry Dean…I'm sorry…' Sam was exhausted of fighting. He desired for a rest badly. For once, he wanted to close his eyes and sleep. Just this once.

"Sam…I believe you."

The words were running like lightning running through his veins, sending shivers all over his body. Sam bolted upright – the pain and the agony were forgotten. Dean believed in him! Nothing would make him betray that trust.

"Dean believes in me!" Sam shouted, full spirited.

"Thy job was done and thou shalt be sent back to where thou belong. Go in peace and return to your sphere of origin, O spirit Buer by the authority of the True God, I command thee to harm no one as thou depart."

Luckily Sam had paid attention to the dismissal spell and had been able to memorize it.

Accompanied by a wail of regret, anger and sorrow, Beur dematerialized into a black cloud that swirled around in the triangle and disappeared like a puff of smoke.

"Go to hell you punk!" Sam hissed triumphantly before he made a face plant to the floor.

"Sam!!" was the last word he heard before darkness engulfed him completely.

"Dean…" was the last word from his lips.

TBC

a/n: Thanks for reading! And please if you have the time, review and make me smile.