A/N: I'm posting this a day earlier than I planned, so I hope it's okay. The chapters now are freshly written, and I normally like to have more time with them before posting. Like I said before, a lot of things get shifted when I edit. And then I walk away and come back a little later with a fresh perspective and edit again. Over and Over. Unfortunately if it doesn't get posted today it would have to wait until after the weekend because I'll be away for a couple of days. A fun trip, just my husband and I heading to some wildlife refuges for a little hiking, a little birding, a little photography.

I'd like to give a very heartfelt thank you to everyone who has reviewed, or favorited, or put the story on alert, or has just been following along. I kind of feel like we're in this together. Your interest encourages me when I hit tough spots, your words often give me insight and help me to see things more clearly. Thank you so very very much. It's always more fun when you can share the things you enjoy with friends.

This chapter picks up exactly where Chapter 19 left off.

Warning: A virtual cornucopia of curses.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. The incredible fun of playing with them is the only profit I receive from the story

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From Chapter 19:

Sam couldn't breathe but he wanted Dean to be patient? Was he on drugs?!

A shallow inward breath was the first sign of Sam's chest moving and he used the air to push a word out. "Wind…" Another breath, another two words. "…knocked out."

It felt like Dean was the one who'd had the wind knocked out of him. He sank downwards until his butt was resting on his heels, the hand still on Sam's shoulder closing into a brutal grip. Sam didn't even twitch away from his bruising fingers, instead releasing his hold on Dean's arm to begin patting it, trying to calm his big brother.

Christ. His shoulder hurt, his head hurt, and his right eye was twitching and blurring from tears caused by the stinging skin on his temple. And all he could feel was relief because the movements of Sam's chest were growing deeper and stronger with each second that passed.

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Chapter 20 Bring The Balance Back

"I swear to God, dude, I'm wrapping you in bubble wrap before I ever let you leave the house again," Dean muttered, releasing his tight hold on Sam's shoulder. He shoved his hand through his hair, wincing when it skimmed past the scraped skin on his temple.

"You okay?" Sam's voice was still a little breathless, but clear.

"Not the first tree I tried to take down with my head," Dean said ruefully. "I'm fine."

Sam's eyes widened and his head shot off of the ground, his arms shifting awkwardly as he tried to push himself up.

"Relax, man." Dean put a hand on his chest, holding him down. "It's cool. Battle's over. We won." As soon as they saw what was happening the elves had moved into position to protect the brothers and destroy what turned out to be the last group of spriggans. It was over within a minute. They might not have made a clean sweep of the spriggans in the area, but they'd sure as hell wiped most of them out.

The tidal wave of adrenaline that he'd been riding began to recede and Dean sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady himself. It wasn't easy with the scene that was playing in his head on a freaking continuous loop. His heartbeat started racing every damn time he saw it. Inches. Sam shouldn't be here. That evil little fucker had him, the spear already thrusting forward, the deadly tip inches from Sam's chest. And there was nothing Dean could do about it but watch.

And then Titaniea was there, one of the most perfect pictures of fury that Dean had ever seen. Focused on protecting his brother.

His mind, his training, told him that a powerful supernatural creature would not truly care about the life of a very mortal young man. But he'd seen Titaniea's face when she saw Sam in danger, and the look that slammed across it was stark heartbroken fear.

Maybe in a little while the hot burn of gratitude would fade and his natural mistrust would reassert itself. And then he would convince himself that the fae queen had saved Sam because she had some as yet unknown use for his brother. But for right now he knew what he saw.

Christ. His head already hurt, and now he had more to think about.

A whisper of cloth and soft movement of the air was his only warning before Titaniea was on her knees next to them. It creeped him out that she could do that. They were like frigging cats. They should all wear bells so people could hear them coming.

"You are well, my beautiful Sasquatch?"

Dean couldn't help the grin that curled up the sides of his mouth at the words. Sam's face crinkled up in a silent ode to embarrassment that had Dean's older brother instincts rubbing their hands together with glee. He reached for Sam's shoulders again. "C'mon beautiful," he smirked "let's get you sitting up."

"Jerk." The word was barely whispered but Dean heard it and his smirk deepened.

Until Sam's face creased at a sudden stab of pain and he gasped softly as Dean pulled him into a sitting position. "Shit shit shit that hurts."

"What?"

Sam scrunched his eyes shut and held his left arm tight against his side as he took a couple of shallow breaths. His face relaxed and he slowly drew in a deeper breath before giving a small nod. "I think he bruised a couple of my ribs in the back. I don't think they're cracked or anything." Sam would know. He wasn't a complete stranger to cracked ribs.

Dean kept one hand on Sam's shoulder to steady him and shuffled slightly to the side for a better angle. He ran his fingertips over Sam's back, gentling the pressure when Sam jerked forward at a touch to the ribs on his left side. He sat back and began shaking his head as he gave his brother a serious look. "Bubble wrap, dude. I swear."

Sam's answering grin did a slow fade. "Dean, how are we going to explain this to Dad?"

A heavy weight settled onto Dean's chest and his expression hardened. He didn't miss Sam's flinch at his reaction or the way Titaniea's head tilted to the side as though she was waiting to hear his response.

Make up a story to keep the truth from Dad? About a hunt? The thought made him sick.

He took in his brother's pale face and imagined what would happen if they told Dad the truth about the night. It was only forty-eight hours since he'd held his brother in a hospital room, terrified he was about to lose him. Two days and he was already thinking of going back on his promise.

He couldn't do that to Sam. Not tonight. Not until he had more time to think about it and figure out how to clue Dad in without causing a nuclear explosion. Not until he figured out if he was even going to tell Dad. Things were just too confused right now. He couldn't…he needed a little time to think about it.

Which meant there was no getting around what he'd have to do tonight. Make up a cock and bull story, and then serve it up to a man who trusted him implicitly.

"Can't we just tell him the truth?" Sam offered, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I mean a variation of it," he amended when Dean's eyes widened. "We went a little way into the woods next to the field and met up with the band of spriggans from the lake? That's all he and Travis think are in the area."

"We're going to have to get some of these bodies back to a spot closer to the field for that to fly," Dean said, grimacing at the thought. He looked at the cut across his own arm and the thin line of blood marring the T shirt across Sam's ribs. "And some of their weapons," he added.

"That burden will be borne by us," Titaniea said quietly.

"He's still gonna rip us a new one for not calling him when we were heading into the woods." A sudden thought hit Dean and he held in a groan. "That's assuming he's not already combing the field looking for us because he couldn't get us on the phone." His eyes ran over the once again peaceful woods of faerie around them. "Somehow I doubt we're getting a signal in here, and I have no clue how long we've been in the Magic Kingdom."

"You have been gone no time at all."

Titaniea's words made no sense to Dean, but from his brother's expression Sam understood. "Because we're in faerie?" When she nodded he turned to Dean and explained. "Time is different in faerie. Sometimes longer, sometimes shorter."

"You will find that barely a moment of your time has passed when you cross back over the stones in the water," she confirmed.

Sam's eyes were fixed on him, his expression making it clear that he trusted his big brother to spin a tale that would have them covered. For anyone else…a suspicious teacher, a cop, a doctor…that would be no problem. But for Dad?

He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. He'd just have to pretend to himself that the story—the lie—that he was dreaming up was for someone else. And then he'd hope that it wouldn't be too long before he could stand looking at himself in the mirror again.

"Okay, how's this," he said slowly, thinking out loud "We'll call Dad when we're getting close to the field. Tell him we see something…ummm…will 'o wisps. We'll tell him we see will 'o wisps on the edge of the forest on the other side of the field, away from the bonfires, and we're going to chase them away before some idiot notices them and gets in trouble. He won't have a problem with that. Even if he says he wants to come check them out too, it will take him a while to drive here from the Cove." He picked up speed as he went, warming to the story. He always did get a kick out of dreaming up the bullcrap they used on people during hunts.

On other people. Strangers. His mood thumped painfully back to the ground when he remembered the target of this story. "So…uh…"

Sam's eyebrows lowered, worry taking over his features when Dean lost his train of thought. It wasn't just worry. He knew Sam's expressions. He recognized bone deep sadness when he saw it. Sam knew exactly what this was doing to him. Dean took a deep breath and forced himself to keep going. He couldn't help that his voice was flat and lifeless when he continued talking. Sam's head bowed but there was nothing Dean could do about that. It didn't matter if it was necessary, he couldn't pretend that the deception was okay with him just to make his little brother feel better. "We'll let a little time go by and then call him again, tell him the spriggans were inside the woods when we got there."

They would have to talk about it and come up with the details of the skirmish when they were on their way back to the field, make it consistent with their injuries. And only take spriggans that could have been killed by the staff or the knife. It would work.

And that knowledge made him want to throw up.

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Dean called him on it the second time he saw Sam rubbing his chest as they walked back through the woods. The kid was moving a little slow, his stiff posture making it clear that he was in pain. It was something Dean always hated to see, but he couldn't exactly pick his brother up and carry him. All he could do was make sure Sam was steady on his feet and help ease him through any rough patches. And try not to worry about it.

But the fist that Sam was unconsciously rubbing against the center of his chest? He couldn't stop himself from worrying about that.

"What's the deal, man? Your chest hurting?"

"I'm—"

"And don't tell me you're fine," Dean growled.

A brief smile flashed over Sam's face. "Yeah, it's aching a little."

"What about your breathing?" He latched onto Sam's arm and pulled him up short, concentrating on the sound of the air moving in and out of his brother's lungs.

There it was, the sound the doctor had told him to listen for. That slight wheeze. Fuck the bubble wrap. He was sticking the kid in one of those plastic bubbles. Sam the Bubble Boy. They'd make a damn movie. He glared at his brother and was treated to an elaborate eye roll for his trouble.

"It's not bad, Dean. As soon as we get home I'll do a nebulizer treatment. The doctor told us this might happen occasionally. My lungs are still irritated. I guess the pressure of the hit knocked them a little out of whack."

Dean worked to control the fear that chilled him as he turned to the fae queen who had been keeping pace with them. It was amazing how quickly his doubts about the fae got thrown out the window when Sammy was in trouble. "There's nothing you can do to help him until we get back there?"

Titaniea had halted when they did, her expression calm but her green eyes fixed on Sam. She'd left her horse with one of the other elves so that she could walk with them, leading them back towards the field. Only one other tall fae accompanied them, a silent giant whose head seemed to constantly swivel as he searched the woods around them for any threats. Dean didn't know what he was so worried about. Seemed to Dean that anything with half a brain would be heading in the opposite direction, running away from the slightly scary queen. He'd seen her in action with the sword. And yeah. Scary.

There was no sign of that deadly side of her as she approached Sam. Her calm expression shifted slightly, worry showing through. She stopped in front of his brother and placed one hand on Sam's chest, cupping Sam's cheek with the other. Okay, he could have lived happily without seeing the small smile the two of them shared.

"The Cailleach enchantment no longer holds sway over your brother," she said after a moment. "I can do little to heal damage to his body that is left behind. There are some of my kind who are skilled at healing, but I have not been blessed with that ability." She dropped her hands and took a step back from Sam. "Your brother will heal on his own. His strength is much greater than you believe."

"Yeah, thanks for nothing," Dean muttered.

"Dean, I'm—"

"Yeah, you're fine," Dean cut him off and turned back to Titaniea. "The spriggans are going to be set when we get there?"

"As you requested," she said with a small nod.

He stuck by Sam's side as they continued walking. Sam having trouble with his breathing changed things a bit. He'd have to make sure John came down from the Cove to meet up with them. He'd been forced to leave the Impala on the far side of Irongate, and no way was he letting Sam walk all the way back there. John would be able to pull his truck up to some loading and unloading spots near the field. His little plan to get some answers from Titaniea would have to wait.

If there had been any question left about spilling everything to John tonight, this ended it. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that the stress of the resulting explosion would put Sam back in the hospital. His lungs would close up so tight it would take a crowbar to get him breathing again.

They couldn't take a chance on that happening, couldn't take a chance on John getting suspicious and figuring it out on his own, either. Every detail of their imaginary encounter with the spriggans had to be perfect. Clear and set in both of their minds.

By the time he stopped to make the first call he was practically twitching, his stomach rolling. It wasn't just the guilt, it was the fact that feeding a line of crap to a man with a built in bullshit meter scared the hell out of him. Short answers in the heat of anger were one thing. But a whole frigging story? Who'd he been trying to kid? He couldn't do this. You just didn't lie to John Winchester.

He didn't lie to John Winchester.

Sam stood next to him, his own guilt showing in every line of his body. It was strange, his little brother looked like he was taking in Dean's pain and magnifying it ten times, sinking under the weight of it. It wasn't a reaction that he expected from Sam when it came to their dad. Sam usually had no problem declaring all out war on the man.

It struck him then. Sam's attitude wasn't about betraying Dad. It was about the way it was hurting Dean. The flashes of sadness he'd been seeing seemed to be growing.

He put his hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezed, surprised…and yet not…when Sam leaned into the contact. It felt like Sam was trying to suck up all the comfort he could from Dean's touch. There was something desperate about it, like he was afraid he was about to lose Dean. The kid really must believe that Dean was prepared to spill everything to John.

Sam turned his head away when Dean finally scraped up the nerve to make the call, and Dean was glad. He wasn't sure he could have schooled his face into a reassuring expression as the lies left his mouth. Dean kept his hand on Sam's shoulder the whole time he talked, a reminder of why he was doing this.

John's reaction was almost anticlimactic. It went exactly the way Dean had originally predicted. Telling them to be careful and that he was going to leave Travis to keep an eye on the Cove while he started heading their way. It was only the first hurdle, but so far, so good.

Sam looked a little lost when Dean finally dropped his hand and a small niggle of worry went through the older brother. He'd heard the conversation, he knew Dean was still backing him up. Why the hell was his little brother still acting like Dean was about to leave him high and dry? It wasn't like Sam to be so needy.

Unless his chest was hurting more than he was saying. The thought gave Dean the push he needed to keep moving. He let Titaniea walk ahead of them and stayed at Sam's shoulder, talking, reassuring, pushing when Sam seemed to falter. The closer they got to the field the slower Sam seemed to move, but it still only took a few minutes to reach the spot they'd decided on.

The clearing was exactly the way Titaniea had described it. Close enough to the field to not anger John over them going into the forest without waiting for him, but completely screened from the festivities on the far side of the field. The bodies of the spriggans were scattered around the space and Dean walked quietly back and forth, nudging them this way and that so that they would fit his story. Sam leaned against a tree, quietly watching, his expression unreadable.

The elves who had brought the spriggans on ahead of the brothers stood like ghosts at the edge of the clearing, ready to melt into the trees if they needed to. Titaniea gave a little nod and one of them came forward, holding an old and wicked looking knife out to Sam.

"Sam." Dean's voice held a warning note as Sam reached for it, and his little brother's hand stopped midway.

"It was carried by one of the foul creatures we fought tonight. I have examined it and it carries no enchantments that will harm you," Titaniea said quietly. "You could have easily gained possession of it when you battled this band," her hand waved gracefully through the air, indicating the dark bodies on the ground, "and your tale will be more believable if you possess a second blade."

Dean had hated giving up the short swords as they were leaving faerie, but to accept a gift…

"You have my word there are no tricks. It would be an effective weapon against the dark fae if you have need of it in the future." The fairy hesitated for a moment and bowed her head slightly before she continued. "It would also be an effective weapon against me and my brethren…and so I ask that you guard it well."

Sam's hand slowly began to drop to his side as though he didn't want to touch the knife. As though he might be afraid to put it within Dean or Dad's reach.

"You can hold onto it, Sam," Dean said softly. "We'll tell Dad you took it off of one of the spriggans when you fought him. Family tradition, dude. Dad will have to agree it's yours."

Sam accepted the knife from the elf's hands, but turned his head away from Dean, his face working as though Dean's understanding actually hurt him. Sometimes his brother was a complete mystery to him.

They went over the details, fitting in the new knife, for a couple of minutes before Dean looked around the clearing and nodded in satisfaction. "Dad should be halfway here. I think it's time to make the second call—"

He broke off at the sight of Titaniea gliding to Sam's side. Sam was slumped more heavily against the tree where he had been resting, his fist pressed tight to his chest. "Sammy?"

He began trotting towards his brother, his gut clenching. Titaniea's head was tilted towards Sam and it looked like soft words were being exchanged. Sam's head nodded once and Titaniea took a step away, waving a hand towards the side of the clearing.

"Sammy? Are you okay?"

Sam wouldn't look at him, his hands going up to his ears, covering them, and his face twisting as though he was in pain.

Dean skidded to a stop next to his brother, raising his hand to clench Sam's shoulder. "Dude! What's the matter?" He needed his brother to look at him so he could figure out what was wrong, figure out how to fix it. Sam kept his face turned away, his fists pressed to the sides of his head. "I'm calling Dad and telling him to haul ass. We've got to get you the hell out of here."

He pulled his phone out but stopped with it half way to his ear when soft music began to drift through the clearing. Shit. They had to shut up so he could call…so he could call…

The notes were lilting, captivating…the most beautiful thing he had ever heard…and he just wanted to listen…to get lost in it…

But he had to call…

He couldn't lift the phone, his head spinning. The music wrapped itself around him and filled him and he was caught in its embrace. So beautiful. He gave himself up to it, let it sweep him away. He was barely aware of his legs turning rubbery under him, of sinking towards the ground.

Strong hands gripped his arms, held him securely and lowered him gently and carefully to the soft moss and leaves. Sam's face hovered over him, tears flooding his eyes. Why did Sammy look so sad?

His mind swirled and darkness crept into the world around him, growing stronger, covering him. What was going on? Why couldn't he… Why…

A flash of Sam's face before his eyes slid shut, the tears broken free and rolling, sadness sharing space with another emotion.

Guilt.

Sam…Sammy…what did you do?

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Sam swiped the back of his hand over his eyes, angrily wiping the tears away. What the hell right did he have to be upset? He wasn't the one who had just been betrayed by his own brother. He'd seen it in Dean's eyes before they closed. Dean knew. He knew that Sam was doing this to him.

He removed the small mossy earplugs that Titaniea had given him to hold before the hunt and let out a shaky breath.

"You swear…you swear that this isn't going to hurt him?" Sam's voice was hoarse, broken, and his hand went to the knife on the ground next to Dean. He'd dropped it when he grabbed Dean to ease his fall. "Because I'll end you myself if you hurt him," he growled, looking up at the fairy queen next to him with his eyes flashing.

There was no anger on her face when she lowered herself to her knees next to him, only sympathy and a sadness that surprised him. "So like my Geroid in your loyalty and your passion," she whispered.

"I swear to you, this will bring him no harm. The enchantment of the music has merely buried all of his memories of us. His mind will replace them with the tales that he has constructed. That is why it was so important that he be the one to weave the fabric of the tales." She ran a gentle hand over Dean's forehead. "He saw the stories happening in here as he thought them and spoke them. Every detail. They are real to him."

"His memories are just buried? They're not gone?"

"We would not steal them away. They are merely hidden from him, but he will have no reason to ever look for them because he will not feel their loss."

"All traces of the light fae are hidden? Even from before tonight?"

She nodded. "He will replace those memories with the stories that he wove for others. That it was a miracle when he found you in the water. That the Cailleach enchantment wore off on its own. That you were here tonight because of your father's orders and the will 'o wisp. He will believe it all as true."

"What about the times between the two of us? When he and I talked about you?"

"He will remember harmless conversation. If there is any confusion he will blame his head injury and look to you for the answers he seeks. Be prepared, he will look to you any time a detail is fuzzy."

Because he trusted Sam. A fresh wave of pain tore through him. The sharp roar that had flared in his back when he caught Dean's weight spread outward until his entire torso was caught up in it, his hands tingling and his head pounding. He welcomed it, curled into it. He deserved it. And he knew it wasn't physical, not really.

"Did…did I do the right thing?" His voice was small and lost, sounding more like a five year old than an adult. He couldn't bring himself to care.

He'd had two days to feel like he was sharing something amazing with his big brother. Two days of memories that only the two of them shared. Two days when they'd forged new and stronger bonds between them and developed a new understanding of each other. Two days of knowing wherever his connection to the fae led, whatever was coming, his brother had his back.

And now he'd thrown that all away, and the freaking hole that it left behind was bigger and deeper than the sum of its parts. Because at the center of this hole, eating away at the sides and making it ever larger, was the knowledge that he had betrayed his brother in a way that Dean would find unforgivable. He'd stolen part of his life, stolen his experiences of the light fae and the knowledge he'd gained, stolen his ability to make his own decisions about what he felt and what he believed and what he was going to do.

It was a betrayal that stole things that were intimate and personal, and ripped them right out from Dean's core.

How could Dean ever forgive him if he knew, when he didn't know if he could ever forgive himself?

"The right thing? There is no simple answer to your question. For your brother…yes I believe it was the right thing," she answered gently. "You have spared him much pain. You relieved him of a burden that was crushing him, and taken it onto yourself." She ran her hand over the side of Sam's face and sighed softly. "But for you it was perhaps not the right thing. I see how it hurts you. I understand the sacrifice that you have made, for him and for us. A sacrifice that no one else in your world will know about. And I ask you to consider something before you allow guilt to consume you. If your roles were reversed, would your brother not have made the same choice?"

Sam bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the sting behind his eyelids. Over the last two days of watching his brother he'd finally understood something at an adult level. He got it now—just how much of Dean was about Sam. Sam's needs, his wants, his safety, his happiness. The realization was both exhilarating and terrifying. To know he was loved that deeply wrapped Sam in a warmth he hadn't felt since he was a young child. But he was an adult now, and he finally understood the responsibility that that love put on him. So much of his brother's happiness and wellbeing was in Sam's hands. The things he did had the potential to affect his brother deeply, and that scared the shit out of him.

He understood that what Dean would probably find the most obscene about Sam's betrayal was that he'd stolen away the things that Dean had learned about Sam in those two days. Not just things that Dean needed to know to help keep Sam safe, but also things that helped him to see his little brother more clearly and understand him better.

Sam straightened his posture and took a deep breath, wincing at the pain in his back. It hurt, but he'd deal with it. Because Sam loved Dean too...and he knew Dean. Really knew him. He examined his brother's face, smudged with dirt and blood, but so peaceful. His chest rose and fell in a deep and even rhythm, his sleep untroubled. The lines that had been bracketing his mouth, etching deeper and deeper over the last two days, were already fading.

He'd made the right decision.

Yeah, Dean was starting to see the other side of the fae. Sam had no doubt that when Titaniea explained her reasons for drawing Sam into things they would be compelling. Dean was incredibly smart, and strong, and more capable of making his own decisions than he gave himself credit for. So there was a chance, maybe even a good chance, that after hearing her out Dean would finally realize that the world came in all different shades of color outside of black and white. And then this would be something the two of them could share. Sam wouldn't have to face it all alone. He wouldn't have to give up a part of his brother.

It didn't matter.

It wouldn't matter if Dean had an epiphany and started singing the praises of the light fae. It wouldn't change the way John felt about them. It wouldn't change the fact that Dean felt like he was betraying their father. Dean might love Sam, but he worshipped their father. Dad's approval was the most important thing in the world to Dean. Being Dad's closest confidante and right hand man was Dean's pride and joy.

Keeping the fae's secret was ripping that away from him. The fact that he was doing it for Sam made it even worse. It put Dean in a no win situation where no matter which way he turned he'd be letting down one of the only two people he loved in the world.

He'd watched Dean all night. Even after they had both been protected by the light fae during the fight, after they'd both been saved by the light fae, Dean had looked torn. Shit, torn didn't cover it. He'd looked broken. It had been in the way he stood, the way he moved, and written all over his face for Sam to see. It was killing Dean, and Sam was the only one who could make it better.

Dean had been sacrificing things for Sam their whole lives. It was time for Sam to make a sacrifice.

He raised his head and gave a firm nod. "Yeah, I did the right thing."

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The pain of war cannot exceed the woe of aftermath,
The drums will shake the castle wall, the ringwraiths ride in black, Ride on.

Sing as you raise your bow, shoot straighter than before.
No comfort has the fire at night that lights the face so cold.

Oh dance in the dark of night, Sing to the morning light.
The magic runes are writ in gold to bring the balance back. Bring it back.

"The Battle of Evermore" Led Zeppelin

A/N: Imagine how thrilled I was when I came across lore that said the fae possess the ability to hide memories of them from mortals. Since there's tons of lore about skillful fae musicians being able to rather forcefully lull people to sleep with their music, I thought it was a good tie in.

A/N2: It looks like there will be one more chapter after this, and then the epilogue. It's very possible they will be posted at the same time. It will depend on the length of the chapter, which might be fairly short. Don't know yet.