Disclaimer: Everything that seems familiar doesn't belong to me. The storyline is only half mine (all the Sam parts belong to a friend)
Title: It's All for You
Chapter: Two :D
Setting: During Season 4.
Pairings: Dean/Sam (in later chapters)
Author's Note: This story isn't a solo effort, I'm happy to say. See, what's going on is my friend and I have a Supernatural roleplay going on on MySpace. She plays Sam and I play Dean. So this story is going to be how our roleplay turns out. So, basically, all the 'Dean's POV' stuff is written by me. All the 'Sam's POV' stuff is written by her. Yeah. :)
------------- Sam's POV -------------
Shutting off the Impala quietly, Sam couldn't help but simply sit in the car for moments, simply staring straight ahead. A heavy sigh left his lips once again, and he carefully hit his palm against the steering wheel, avoiding any potential damage to the car. He didn't want arguments – not after everything. Running a hand through his hair, he opened the car door, beginning to step out when a familiar voice caught his attention. God, he'd know that rough tone anyday – before Dean's voice had broken, Sam had burned it into his memory. When it changed, he'd been confused at first, not liking the difference, and the whole incident had resulted in Dean's giving him 'the talk'. Freaking traumatic. Turning, the younger brother looked at the older, taking in the bags he was holding, and frowning. Dean was in a hurry to leave, that much was obvious.
"Dean, what…?" His brother moved past him to climb into the driver's seat, prompting what could have been a laugh from Sam, if the events of the day hadn't been the opposite of amusing. Dean always had to drive. Raising his eyebrows, he shook his head, moving around to the other side of the car without further comment. Something was up – that much was obvious. There was no way that Dean had simply decided to go on a road trip – no, whatever had happened while he was gone had scared him. And his big brother didn't scare easily. Clasping on his seatbelt, Sam turned to look at him, but it was obvious he wouldn't be getting any answers.
Come on, Dean…you've got to stop doing this.
His jaw tense, Sam leaned back heavily against the seat, the only sound in the car that of their own breathing. Leaning forward, he turned the volume up slightly, in an attempt to ease his brother's mood. Usually, his music soothed him – ironic, when his music was all fast paced and loud. Drumming his fingers against his jeans, Sam glanced out the window, frowning at the clouds hanging overhead, forcing the sky to become almost black. Rain began to fall almost immediately, the thunder following, and within moments, making seeing anything in the storm almost impossible. Yet the car didn't stop. Sam turned, staring at his brother, and frowning as he waited. He wasn't prepared to stop – he wanted out of this town, and he was burning to know why.
"Dean…" Beginning to speak, his frown deepened, and he shook his head. "I'm not stupid. I know something's up." It was entirely hypocritical, the way he reprimanded his brother for doing something he did constantly himself. But in all honesty, Sam didn't care. He was the younger of the two of them – as a result, it was his job to worry, and be the one who insisted on having the chick-flick moments. Sam wasn't a girl, however much Dean pretended him to be, but he did prefer actual communication to silence and false pretenses. "Look, man, whatever it is…you can tell me." Sam rolled his eyes, all but hitting his head against the window as he turned to peer out it once again. "Fine." The rain was getting heavier, barely allowing the two to see the signs on the way out of the small town, when something caught his attention through the weather, and Sam straightened in his seat, wiping the window in an attempt to clear it. "Stop the car, Dean."
Opening the car door, the rain instantly latched onto his once dry clothes, and completely soaking him. Sam turned to glance at his brother, pushing back dripping strands of his own hair, and indicated the rush of water in front of them. The road was completely blocked by flooding, the small creek under the bridge having overflowed to block the way out. Shaking his head, Sam stepped closer, picking up a long stick. The bridge was on an incline, the road almost dipping, and if he stepped in it – he wasn't that stupid – it would have reached his waist. The Impala would be doomed, and Dean would be screwed, however tall he insisted he was. Throwing the stick into the water, it was swept away instantly, proving his theory. They couldn't get out – and it was the only road exiting the small town.
"I think our plans just changed, Dean!" He shouted over the rush of the water, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to clear the water from them. Anything to distract him from the talk with Ruby – she'd implied it would all be happening soon, and freak storms were just another sign of the supernatural. Bobby's words replayed in his thoughts, slightly paraphrased, but taking on a whole new meaning. "There's a storm coming – and you two boys are right in the middle of it." Stepping closer to his brother, Sam nudged him slightly, indicating the car behind them. "Let's get out of here before the water rises – we'll just have to head back to the hotel, Dean! There's no way out!" Hoping his voice could be heard above the storm, he chose to speak via actions, making his way back to the Impala in a hurry.
Closing the door behind him, Sam glanced sideways, his clothes and hair dripping wet from the rain. He knew the inside of the Impala would take a bit of a beating from water damage alone, but honestly, he couldn't care less. Dean would deal – eventually. Leaning back against the chair with a frown, he waited for his brother in silence, his heart beginning to lurch. It wasn't normal, for storms like this, and with every moment passing, he was sure it was bad – but Dean had been so desperate to leave…something was going to happen. He wasn't an idiot, and he knew his brother. "Come on, Dean…it's time you really told me what was going on." Breathing the words to the silence surrounding him, Sam impatiently waited for his brother to get in the car, the feeling that something was going to happen becoming stronger with every passing second.
------------- Dean's POV -------------
It wasn't like Dean liked keeping things from his brother. Not in the least bit. It made him feel like he was betraying Sam's trust, in a way. Ever since he had picked Sam up from Stanford those three fateful years ago, Dean had made a point that he would tell Sam as much as humanly possible without putting his brother's life or sanity in danger. And while this could be filed under the things that could cause Sam to freak out, it was also something that probably was especially important. Considering that Castiel had said that Dean could only be saved by Sam. But why worry the kid? Sam had his own issues to deal with, apparently. Not that Dean knew what they were. Which was kind of annoying, to be quite honest. But he supposed he couldn't really talk, could he?
Dean just needed time to think all this through. What Castiel had said, what it was going to mean for the brothers. Was Dean really doomed like Castiel had implied? If Lucifer overtook his body, what did it mean for Dean's soul? Would it be like a normal possession, and Dean would just be along for the ride? Part of him hoped not; he really didn't feel like watching as Lucifer caused death and destruction for an eternity while Dean couldn't do jack shit to stop him. But on the other hand, Dean didn't know where his soul would go if Lucifer decided to permanently visit him. Would he go to Heaven? Doubtful. If he couldn't stop Lucifer, he doubted Castiel and his boss would be too happy with him. Which only meant that Dean would go back to Hell… he didn't think he'd be able to deal with that. Not again.
Sighing, Dean looked over at Sam, who had clearly just spoken to him, by the expectant look on his face. But with a 'fine', he looked back out the window. God, the storm they were caught in the middle of had gotten bad. Really bad. Dean could barely see what was outside of the car in front of him, but he wasn't about to stop. Stopping meant being stuck in this town, when Lucifer was on his way to come beat Dean's soul to Hell. Dean wasn't prepared to stay in this town any longer than he needed to. He needed to get himself and his brother out of there, as soon as possible. But damn… it wouldn't do any good if they ended up getting in a car accident and dying. Then again, if Dean died, Lucifer wouldn't have his 'marked soul,' now would he? Don't think like that, Dean. You need to stay alive and help Sam prepare so you can kick his ass right back into Hell… You know Sam can't lose you again. After last time… He wouldn't be able to take it.
"Stop the car, Dean." Dean looked over at his brother quickly, his brow furrowed, but did what he was instructed without a comment. Sam seemed confused and concerned about something. But what really didn't excite him was Sam climbing out of the car after Dean had stopped in the middle of the road. Rolling his eyes, Dean sighed and slowly climbed out of the car after his brother, instantly becoming soaked. Well, that was just freaking dandy. "Sam, get back in the car, you're going to catch a cold! And I'd rather not have to take care of your sick ass!" Dean yelled over the rain. But his eyes followed Sam, and he immediately felt his heart drop. The road was flooded—he wasn't going to be able to make it out of town. He was stuck. Lucifer was coming and Dean was stuck.
What did this mean? Why wouldn't Castiel tell Dean about this? Surely he would know that one of the only ways out of town was flooded—but Dean knew there was another way. It was about a half hour drive, and the rain didn't seem to be letting up any, but he knew he had to try it. If that place was flooded, then Dean supposed they'd have to head back to the motel… And try to explain to Sam what was happening. Maybe. He'd only mention it if he had to… He just hoped it didn't come to that. He really, really hoped it didn't.
It took Dean a few moments to realize that Sam was yelling at him over the storm, but definitely noticed his brother heading back into the car. Dean sighed and followed suit, quickly turning around and putting the petal to the metal, heading for the other side of town. He didn't say a word, his expression hard and determined. He ran a hand over his soaked face, glancing over at his brother for a brief second. That other way out was his last chance. If he didn't make it… then who knew what was going to happen? Dean couldn't chance it.
It was a half hour drive in silence… at least on Dean's part. He was zoning out almost everything around him, save for the road. All he could think about was Lucifer, Castiel, and what it would be like to revisit Hell. If Sam had talked, or asked anything, then Dean wasn't aware. He honestly could only remember just a couple instances in his life when he was this scared—the moments before Sam had died in his arms, and when the Hell Hounds had finally come for him. And, well, it was a pretty safe bet to say that the Hell Hounds were basically coming back for him, in a way. There was one thing, however, that Dean paid attention to. Like the fact that the only other way out of town was flooded.
"No. No, no, no," Dean said with wide eyes, stopping the car and quickly climbing out, walking towards the flood. "Damnit, Castiel! What now, huh?! What am I supposed to do now?!" Apparently Castiel had heard him, because in a matter of moments, someone was speaking from behind him. "He's coming Dean… it's time to tell Sam." Dean turned around quickly, shaking his head. "There has to be another way out! Tell me, god damnit!" Castiel looked sorrowful, and shook his head. "There is no other way, Dean. You must tell Sam, and try to prepare for what's to come. You don't have long." Castiel watched as Dean bent down and grabbed a rock, throwing it at a tree off the road. "God damnit!" Dean then quickly turned to Castiel. "If Lucifer comes, what's going to happen to my soul?" Castiel gave Dean a grave look. "I think you know the answer to that, Dean." Turning to the car, Dean quickly headed towards it, mustering up the hardest glare he could as he passed Castiel.
Dean climbed into the car slowly, and sighed, looking straight ahead of him. He couldn't bring himself to look at Sam. "When I was in Hell, Lucifer marked my soul. I'm the only one who can allow him to reach his full potential when he gets here. And, according to Castiel, he's on his way." Dean swallowed hard. "And it won't be a normal possession. Once he's in, I'm kicked out. Lucifer will have full control over my body and I… I'll be back in Hell." Dean looked over at Sam slowly, his face hard, void of emotion. "Castiel you're the only one that can stop Castiel, that can get me back… with your freaky psychic powers." Running a hand through his soaked hair, Dean sighed. "I guess we better get back to the motel and prepare… We have to stop this bitch."
------------- Sam's POV -------------
Staring straight ahead, his jaw tense as he fought the urge to speak, Sam forced himself to keep his dark gaze averted from his brother. The air was thick with tension between them, though he didn't know why, and the rain was beating the Impala mercilessly. Hitting the back of his head against the headrest of the seat, the youngest Winchester closed his eyes in frustration, wanting nothing more than to punch something. Flexing his fingers in some vague attempt to satisfy the urge, he dug his fingers into his palm roughly. Why the hell cant they leave us alone? Would it fucking kill someone for me to have an older brother? His eyes snapped open, and he shook his head, his dark hair still dripping from the rain. It seemed everything was out to get them, all the time, and it drove him insane. It wasn't fair. If it weren't Dean who was constantly being hurt…he could deal. But this was his older brother people were screwing with, and he was sick and tired of it.
Whatever hell that Dean had been through…Sam had been through his own emotional torture. He'd been left behind, to face a world – a life – without the only person he'd ever depended on. His older brother was his life, and the two were linked irrevocably. That tie was severed in moments, while Sam was forced to watch, and his every night was plagued with the memory of blood spurting from Dean's chest as he screamed in what had to be absolute agony. The euphoria that had come with seeing him again – and alive – could and would never replace the horror at losing him. I could never expect to know what he went through down there…but he'll never know how bad it was without him, too.
Opening his eyes, Sam frowned as he heard his brother's rough cursing, and he turned to watch him in confusion, frowning as he moved out of the car. A part of him wanted to follow, but he didn't miss the other figure that appeared through the windows. It was obvious Castiel had made another visit, and he didn't plan to interrupt. He'd met the angels, and it had played on his mind for ages, knowing that what he'd been praying to had such a different character that what they'd been portrayed with. Sighing, he waited patiently, every fiber in his being shouting at him to get out of the car. But Dean would be pissed if he got in the way. He didn't need to move to see that the road was blocked – they weren't getting out of the town today. Whatever had Dean wired would have to wait – maybe, it wouldn't be bad. But there was honestly no telling with their fucked up lives.
The door opened, interrupting his thoughts, and Sam watched his brother with a raised eyebrow. He had known Dean long enough to know when he was annoyed – he was about to kill something. "When I was in Hell, Lucifer marked my soul. I'm the only one who can allow him to reach his full potential when he gets here. And, according to Castiel, he's on his way. And it won't be a normal possession. Once he's in, I'm kicked out. Lucifer will have full control over my body and I… I'll be back in Hell. Castiel said you're the only one that can stop Lucifer, that can get me back… with your freaky psychic powers." The older Winchester's face was a mask of nothing, and Sam didn't miss the way he refused to look at him until he was done.
"I guess we better get back to the motel and prepare… We have to stop this bitch.
"
His hand reached out to grab the steering wheel, in a warning, and Sam continued to stare at Dean with what he hoped was a guarded expression. He couldn't let him know how close he was to breaking at this news. His heart was beating so fast he was afraid it would break his chest in two, as if it knew the pain that would come with losing Dean again. He couldn't go through that a second time, and he couldn't live with himself if his brother was sent back down to the one thing he'd ever seen mess him up. Swallowing, Sam shook his head, silently repeating the angel's words in his mind. I can stop this…but…how the hell do I go against Satan…?
"You're not going back to hell, Dean." His voice shook as he spoke, but Sam found he didn't care. He needed to reassure his brother of this fact, if only to reassure himself in the process, and inhaled shakily. "I…I wont let you. If it means dying, I don't give a damn. You're not going back there." Pressing his lips together, he waited a moment, before continuing to speak. "So…this…is why Castiel pulled you out? So your soul wouldn't be…marked?" He ran a hand through his own hair, vowing to cut it if they both survived this, and released the steering wheel. "No. I don't care what it takes – we're stopping this thing."
His jaw set in determination, Sam continued staring ahead, fighting the urge to break. He'd always been the one inclined to cry when they were younger, and that hadn't changed. He didn't want to lose Dean, and he didn't want his brother's body to be controlled by the Devil. That would be…torment beyond imagination, to know that the person who had always been the epitome of perfection was taken by the greatest evil in existence. And he didn't care what it took – it wouldn't happen.
His entire body was shaking with suppressed anger as they made their way back through the storm, to the hotel, and Sam stared at everything but Dean. He knew his brother would be pissed to know his suicidal thoughts – he'd gladly give away his pathetic existence to keep his hero alive, and he'd do it a thousand times if need be. No matter how bad hell was, it would never hurt as much as losing his Batman. He's not yours…he's your brother. He'll never be yours. Eyes narrowing at his own thoughts, Sam dug his fingers into the seats of the Impala, wincing at the very audible sound of it, and turning to look out the window in an attempt to avoid Dean's glare. I'm going to have to… He didn't need to finish the thought to know what would happen. His psychic crap would be what saved his brother – he was sure of it. But it would take beyond what he had to exorcise the Devil from the body of the person he'd always loved the most. And he only prayed it wouldn't kill Dean in the process.
Waiting until the Impala rolled to a stop, Sam jumped out of the car almost instantly, slamming the door shut, and grabbing his bags from the trunk. The keys were where they'd been left, somewhere out front, and he almost knocked the door down with his urgency. He wanted – needed – to find a way to stop this. "Dean…" Turning, he looked up, trying to meet his eyes, but failing. "I…this wont happen. I won't let it." Forcing a smirk, Sam tilted his head. "You sold me your soul for a packet of M&Ms when we were kids, remember? I'll follow you down there to claim what's mine." The smile faltered, and his eyes betrayed the hysteria he felt, though he didn't vocalize it. "Let's do this."