AN: A BIG thankyou to all my lovely reviewers. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.
Chapter 6
A piercing scream echoed throughout the shack that was Bobby's house causing all the occupants, except the unconscious angel, to rush to the epicenter of the disturbance.
The cry of pain reiterated itself in Sam's mind even after the silence of the night was restored. With a heavy heart Sam entered the room that he had shared with his brother ever since they were kids. He found his brother crouched on the ground, clutching his head as if in pain.
"Dean! What's wrong? What happened? Dean! Answer me!" Sam demanded sitting down next to him.
"Hurts… Sam..it hurts…" Dean gasped out. Sam could only watch in alarm as Dean let out a whimper of pain. Just as the overwhelming panic was about to consume Sam, God or whatever mystical being was out there decided to have mercy on them and Dean collapsed under the strain he went through and passed out in his brother's arms.
"Dean….Dean….wha..what….how…" Sam trailed off in a barely discernible chatter.
He didn't even notice when Gabriel had followed him in the room. He turned towards the archangel when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Sam, it's alright. Dean's going to be alright." Gabriel continued to comfort the distressed hunter. " It's alright. It's probably the result of the mental barricade but he'll be alright, I swear!"
"What?" Sam asked, confused by Gabriel's words. Did he say a mental barricade?
"Sam, I know you're confused, but just calm down, okay. I'll explain everything. But first, let's get you a drink, yeah? You need it."
Sam was too besieged to do anything but to follow the archangel wordlessly.
Sam and Gabriel helped themselves to the liquor in Bobby's refrigerator. Sam absently thanked his stars that Rufus had requested Bobby's assistance and called him away. He wasn't sure if Bobby would be too receptive towards Gabriel despite him having saved their lives.
"Alright, Gabriel. Explain." Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest and awaited the explanation.
Gabriel sighed and then proceeded to zap a bar of chocolate into existence.
"Understand that this does not change anything. I still think that you and your brother are the biggest idiots in the world for even thinking that you can stop the apocalypse. Castiel may have faith in you. I don't. And I'd much rather get this whole mess over with. But don't worry; I'm not going to force you to say yes. At least, not yet."
"Why?" Sam asked before he could stop himself.
"Because for some incomprehensible reason, my little brother is emotionally vested in you and I don't wish to pain him by delivering the two of you to Michael and Lucifer like I want to." Gabriel concluded with a dramatic eye-roll.
Sam couldn't help but resent these words. It had apparently been a stretch to think that the archangel would consent to being their ally. He was only here for Castiel. Speaking of Cass…
"What about Cass? Will he be alright? And why hasn't he woken up yet?"
Gabriel sighed again and the look of defeat and dare he say it; vulnerability; graced his features again.
"The demons that had trapped him…they injected holy oil in his veins. You have no idea…you can't imagine the agony that it inflicts on an angel. It's worse than acid eating away at your body from the inside. The anguish it can cause an angel is indescribable."
"But will he recover? Is there anything we can do?" Gabriel's words circled Sam's mind hauntingly. Oh God…Sam was astounded as he tried to come to terms with what Cass had suffered for them.
"He'll be fine. But it will take a little time before my grace can completely purge his body."
Sam sighed in relief. As the adrenaline drained from his system, an unexpected wave of fatigue overcame his body and he battled his eyes to stay awake. The excessive information had succeeded in causing a sensory overload. So much had happened in the past few days. There was so much he still didn't know.
In hopeless times like these, Sam often turned to his brother for assurance. Even a simple verbal exchange of taunts and disguised insults that conveyed hidden affection or mindless bickering magically transformed his dreary soul into a lively and hopeful spirit. A genuine laugh or smile from his brother had always symbolised safety and home and never failed to lighten his heart. He hadn't heard his brother laugh in a long time.
His thoughts brought another question to his attention that he had carelessly forgotten in the maelstrom of information.
"What about Dean? And what did you mean about a mental barricade?" Sam asked with growing unease. Gabriel stared at him for a long minute before he began his explanation. As he spoke, his eyes reflected an emotion that was almost akin to pity.
"Look, kiddo. I'll be honest with you. Hell did quite a number on him and he hasn't had time to heal yet. He probably never will. I almost pity the fool for what he has suffered. Though Castiel healed the physical wounds on his body, his soul is still broken. He's no longer the man he once was. No one comes back from hell without the scars to show for it." Gabriel paused then, as if debating whether to continue or not.
"What do you mean, Gabriel?" Sam whispered out the words fearfully, scared of what the answer would be.
"Dean's mind is, at best, fragile. It further crumbled in Alistair's captivity. When I came to save you, Dean was almost lost in his own mind. I had no choice then but to do what I did. I constructed a temporary barrier in his mind to block out the memories of his most recent torture and hence, his amnesia. Unfortunately, the human mind is not capable of repressing such destructive memories for long and my barrier broke down. That is the reason for Dean's breakdown."
Tears slipped down Sam's cheeks but went unnoticed. Sam struggled to hold on to some constant, some reason, some sense; but he was lost to the sea of emotions that threatened to drown him.
"Can't anything be done?" Sam asked, his voice frightfully similar to a child coming to terms with the evil in the world.
"There is no magic on earth or in heaven that can cure his soul, Sam. This is something he will have to fight on his own. I'm sorry, but I can't help you anymore."
That said, the archangel quietly took his leave and disappeared in a flutter of wings. And for the second time in the past few days, Sam broke down and cried.
Dean woke up to the gentle snores of his little brother who was currently asleep on the chair beside his bed. He decided against moving from his horizontal position for fear of waking Sam up.
A wisp of a memory danced at the peripheral edge of his mind and he attempted to grasp it before it disappeared from his subconscience into the unknown. Gradually, he remembered enduring a particularly savage nightmare and then waking up with a severe headache. He vaguely recalled falling to his knees in agony. A piercing scream echoed through his memory.
He put two and two together and figured that Sam had helped him through the incident and put him to bed. But this begged the question-"What the hell happened?"
Slowly, obscure memories trickled into his mind. Alistair's capture..…the torture….the pain….oh God… He remembered. He remembered everything. His breaths turned to breathless gasps. He fought in vain to force air into his lungs. His heart thumped maniacally and his erratic breathing gave way to hyperventilation.
Dean realized at the back of his mind that he was having a panic attack but refused to acknowledge it. Instead, he focused on regaining control of his disobeying body. Shifting his attention to Sam, he made an effort to synchronize his breathing with his brother's even snores. He finally succeeded after a few tries and then resolved to get his bearings.
Dean knew what he had to do. He had lived his whole life trusting and relying on his instincts. And his most foremost and primal instinct had always been to protect Sam. This situation was no different. Sam had unfortunately seen and heard a lot from Alistair, which was bad enough. He didn't need to know anymore.
He willed himself to create an impenetrable mask, to hide himself from everyone; from the world, from Sam. Dean resolved in that moment that he would protect Sam at all costs; even from himself.
A shuffling sound registered in Sam's sleepy mind and served to wake him up from his slumber. Opening his eyes, he immediately sat up when he saw Dean trying to rise from the bed.
"What the hell, Dean! You can't get up yet! Lie down!"
"Oh, shut up, Sam. I'm fine." Dean replied in his usual apathetic tone.
"But Dean, you can't…."
"Sam! I'm fine. Stop mothering me."
It was only then that Sam noticed that something was different. Dean's face was calm and emotionless. Too calm. Sam recognised this face well. It was a mask that Dean had perfected a long time ago to protect himself from any form of emotional distress. Dean always used it to keep everyone at arms length so that nobody could see his true feelings and emotions. It has been forever since he has used that mask to keep me out, Sam realised with a pang.
"Dean…have you…do you….What is the last thing you remember?" Sam asked, unsure if he really wanted an answer. Dean let out a sigh of annoyance but his stoic features did not change.
"Sam, if you're asking whether I remember what happened with Alistair, then yes, I do. Now let it go. I'm fine now. I'm not in a mood to discuss it. And that is not up for debate." Dean cut-off Sam's protests and proceeded to get up again. However, he was stopped by Sam's soft, heart broken voice that had always succeeded in demanding the attention of the big brother inside him.
"Dean, don't do this. Please don't do this." Sam murmured softly.
"Don't do what, Sam?" Dean asked just as softly, unable to stay angry when his brother sounded so broken. Damn it Sam, why can't you just let it go…
"Don't hide behind that mask. Don't do that, Dean! Talk to me! Let me help you!" Sam's volume rose with every word. He was obviously on the edge of losing his temper. Strangely, Dean was beyond caring and replied in a voice that was just as loud.
"Because, damn it Sam, you can't help me. No one can. So we're just going to forget that this ever happened and we sure as hell are not going to talk about it." But Sam remained unperturbed at Dean's explosion. If anything, it served to only fuel his desire, his aching need to help his brother.
"DEAN! Pretending that it never happened is not going to make it disappear! You know you have to face it sometime!"
"I don't have to do anything. Why can't you just LET IT GO!"
"Why do you always refuse my help? Why don't you trust me to help you carry your burdens?"
"BECAUSE, DAMNIT SAM! YOU CAN'T HELP ME!"
"IF YOU'D JUST TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED IN HELL…."
"SHUT UP SAM! JUST SHUT UP! DON'T GO THERE…"
"DEAN, YOU CAN'T JUST BOTTLE UP WHATEVER HAPPENED IN HELL, DAMNIT! YOU NEED TO LET IT OUT! JUST TALK TO ME! LET ME HELP!"
"I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT. AND I'M NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT HELL! THAT'S FINAL!"
"DEAN!..."
"LEAVE ME ALONE, SAM! I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!"
With those words, Dean proceeded to walk away, leaving Sam alone in the room.
Both brothers fought against the moisture in their eyes that was threatening to spill over their cheeks. While one brother wept for his excruciating past, the other cried at his inability to help the other through his ordeal. Both souls were drained and distraught in their grief.
Anger,pain,fear, guilt; these emotions coursed through their veins, robbing them of their ability to think and rationalise.
In the end, both brothers were too angry, too hurt, too stubborn to face the other and they both spent the rest of the day drowning in their mental and emotional anguish.
AN: I'd love to know what you think of my story so far. Do let me know.