Chapter 7: The Missing Piece
Eir is patching people up in Abu Ghraib. Modern technology doesn't often leave much for her to work with in the wake of a battle, but this one is reminiscent of the old days and she is fully engaged – until Dean Winchester's need flares up and her attention wavers. She can't justify leaving so many wounded soldiers for the sake of one; she hyperfocuses on the soldiers under her hands until she has salvaged what she can from the mess. Finally she allows herself to be drawn from blinding hot desert to dark, muddy field.
She's too late, though. By the time she arrives, Dean has unwittingly traded his health for another's. He is whole, but carries guilt and regret over the soul that was sacrificed in his place. It was not his choice, but he is responsible nonetheless.
His energy has changed. Eir doesn't think it has to do with a few more drops of guilt added to the vast store he has already been carrying. It takes her a moment to realize that the new development is a sense of stability. He is grounded, tethered to the boy who stands tall and quiet by his side.
"Sammy," Dean says, and Eir can feel something like a deadbolt sliding into place. She recognizes that this is Dean's mysterious missing piece, the happiness sacrificed and now restored.
A mop of dark hair doesn't quite cover the newcomer's direct blue-hazel gaze. His eyes have a Scandinavian tilt; combined with an upturned nose, wide mouth and strong jaw he could rival the beauty of any of her Norse warriors. He's deceptively lanky given his strength and musculature, and older than she expected, given the paternal attitude she has gleaned from Dean in the past. Not offspring, then; more likely a younger sibling for whom he bears responsibility.
Dean in Sammy's presence is fascinating. Eir can't keep herself from remaining in their company for a few days. Thank goodness Freya is busy elsewhere and doesn't know what her sister is up to. Goddesses, even the least of them, do not lurk.
In the course of a day Dean takes every opportunity to say his brother's name, and Eir feels the flash of secretive gratitude that accompanies each repetition. Sammy – Sam, he insists – doesn't know these are tiny prayers of thanks; he's irritated by the repeated use of his childhood nickname. He's not interested in regressing. She can feel Dean's insecurity whenever his eyes rest on the boy's coltish frame; long absence has changed the natural order. The child is no longer a dependent; their relationship has shifted into something more equal and it makes Dean uneasy.
Sammy-Sam radiates sincerity and empathy, but Eir senses that a keen, analytical mind is usually dominant over his emotions. Not that he isn't awash with feelings; he must feel everything keenly, because this boy has dammed up an ocean of grief and despair threatens to breach its containment. But his eyes are constantly assessing his surroundings and there's a certain coolness about him that she associates with strategy and opportunism. He'll be a decisive warrior, circling until he spots an advantage, then mercilessly making the kill.
Eir hopes Dean will need less patching up now that his brother fights at his side. It's a thin hope that is soon worn through, because Sammy-Sam believes he is an adult, but Dean does not. Sam often emerges from a hunt unscathed, while his protective brother proves to be as breakable as ever. He is, however, less easily repairable than before. Eir is frustrated by their vigilance over each other; Sam's brilliant mind flags any anomalies and Dean is on hyper-alert, and sometimes she just can't get close enough to fix either of them.
Sometimes, though, they've been too much in each other's pockets and annoyances split them apart. For a few hours Dean gets lost in a bar while Sam gets lost in a book, and she gets lost in Sam. She always follows Dean first, cloaked in the artificial gaiety of the bar scene, but when one's needs are fulfilled her curiosity draws her back to the other. He's every bit as distracting as his brother, but the energy is different. She meanders without thought, gradually notices that her consciousness is immersed in what feels like the light of a full moon. At his center is a lake, tranquil, and reflective, but she can sense something dark lurking in the depths. Something about to surface.