Big My Secret
Chapter 6 – Reunited
A/N: This is my take on what happens when Dean returns from Hell at the start of Season 4. The story takes place shortly after Dean and Bobby show up at Sam's motel room.
The title comes from a song from the soundtrack of the movie 'The Piano'. No copyright infringement intended.
I don't own anything related to Supernatural. All I can claim are the errors, grammatical or otherwise.
Thank you to all the reviewers, followers and readers.
This fic is for entertainment purposes only. Enjoy.
SPN~SPN~SPN
"We can't just sit around and do nothing," Sam hissed. The young man paced like a caged tiger, his senses overloaded, his gut in knots because everything felt wrong and nothing added up.
Bobby watched Billy curl up on Dean's lap, finger the amulet with one hand and hold onto Dean's wrist with the other. The older hunter huffed, turning back to Sam.
"Boy, that's not what I said," he explained, trying to keep the young man calm. "Your brother's not in his right mind. We have to think before we act or we'll only make things worse." Bobby scrubbed at his face trying to rub out the worry lines he was sure had multiplied tenfold during the last couple of days. "At least he's calm right now and we don't know what we're dealing with here. Let's not rock the boat until we find out more," the older hunter groused as Sam's eyes narrowed in disbelief.
"My brother just got out of Hell and we don't know how and why, and then this kid shows up. He can't just have materialized out of thin air," Sam spat out in anger. The youngest Winchester couldn't understand why Bobby wasn't more worked up and why they shouldn't just grab the kid and drag him away. Sam glanced over at his brother and saw the emotional toll the last hour had taken on him. Dean's face was flushed from the fever and what seemed like an endless crying jag. His brother, who avoided what he called chick flick moments like the plague, had practically sobbed himself dry. And truth be told, Sam wasn't only worried and scared because he had never seen his brother in such a state but he was jealous, jealous of this kid and the hold he had on Dean.
Bobby looked behind Sam and motioned to Pamela to join them. The dark haired woman moved closer, her eyes scrutinizing Dean and Billy, her face a portrait of serenity.
"Well, what do you think?" Bobby asked, his tone gruff with impatience.
Pamela gave them a wan smile unsure how to begin. "There's a very strong connection..."
"Yeah, we can see that," Sam interrupted, "How do we break it?"
"Break it?" Pamela looked at Sam, her eyes widening. "You can't break it," she stated, "They're…I don't know…they're…somehow…alike..."
"You mean like brothers, fathers and sons?" Bobby asked puzzled, not missing the way Sam flinched at the suggestion.
"No, not like that," Pamela shook her head, searching for the right words, "It's something closer than that," she breathed out almost in awe.
"It doesn't matter what it is," Sam interjected, pulling his hair back nervously. "There's something wrong with this...it's not right." Sam's eyes were begging Bobby to listen to him and forget what the psychic had said.
The old hunter was stuck between a rock named Sam and a hard place named Pamela and no matter what, he had to do what was right for Dean, except he just couldn't wrap his mind around where the truth lay or how to find it.
"Go on," Bobby requested of Pamela and Sam threw up his hands in frustration and walked away.
"He's wrong," Pamela whispered, her eyes swimming with wonderment. "Sam's wrong. There's never been anything more right."
SPN~SPN~SPN
Billy fingered the amulet around Dean's neck then smiled up at the hunter.
"I like this," he said, pleased with the feel of the metal under his fingers. Dean pulled the boy closer as he relaxed and leaned back against the altar. His entire body was thrumming from pure joy as if every cell in his body was radiating his happiness and a deep, unadulterated love.
"You want to wear it?" Dean asked. Billy smiled widely and nodded his head.
"Go ahead." The young man inclined his head so Billy could easily remove the necklace and put it on. The boy looked down at it as it hung low on his chest and then gave Dean a proud smile and continued to finger the talisman. The hunter stroked Billy's hair and looked him over, his heart seeing what was not visible to the others.
"'I like it here...with you," Billy said, the words soft with longing.
Dean gazed at the boy and wrapped his arm around his tiny shoulders. The hunter needed to feel the warmth of this being, needed the contact, needed to be joined across their two separate bodies. It was clear now, so painfully clear, what Dean had been searching for his whole life was right here, with him and he finally understood why he could never fill the void in his heart, why he couldn't fill it with his brother or his father or the memory of his mother, couldn't forget about it with alcohol or hunting or food or sex. None of these things were ever enough to stop the pain or the feelings of inadequacy or the sense that something, that some part of him was lost.
And there, in Hell, in the worst place imaginable, Dean found what had been missing, found the soul that was shaped exactly like the hole in his being, found his missing piece.
Dean first saw it behind a veil, beyond his reach but in its purest form – as a brilliant flash of light. Its brightness had obliterated the darkness of Hell and its heat had seared the edges of his void. They had recognized each other immediately and that moment became a promise, an eternal vow that they would somehow find each other, again. And then it was over and the wrath of Hell came down on him. Dean was dragged away, engulfed in darkness, blinded, suffocated, torn and shredded as Alastair tried to carve the memory of that moment right out of his being.
"How did you get out?" Dean asked, pushing those dark thought aside, needing to know what he himself could not fully remember.
Billy looked up into bright green eyes, pulling back his sleeve, displaying the burn mark on his arm. "You pulled me out."
Dean touched it, fitting his hand over it. "But how?" he exhaled before he was racked by a dry cough. Billy watched; a worrying look creased his features at the sound emanating from Dean. The hunter got himself under control and licked his lips as he nodded to the boy to go on. Billy waited a moment or two before continuing.
"He came…to get you...," The boy reached up, clasping Dean's shoulder to show him.
Dean was overcome by the images of wings and the horrible sounds of shrieking. He recalled the sensation of being pulled apart, of being caught in a mighty struggle. He recalled how this other soul, this other part of him had reappeared in a flash of light. This time so much brighter, so much closer and without a barrier to keep them apart they reached out for each other, simultaneously, instinctively, knowing how to connect, how to join. Against the searing pain of this unification, Dean held on to this light, held on to this soul, held on to Billy and would not let go even if it meant falling back into Hell.
Dean was hit with a wave of dizziness at the memory; his heart hammering rapidly, his lungs aching with each breath. Billy looked up at the hunter, his body feeling the same emotions as the grown man. He gripped Dean's wrist more strongly as he struggled draw air into his lungs.
"Don't...let...go," the boy huffed, his eyes widening with each shallow breath.
It was what Billy had said it to him when they rose up from the darkness. "I won't...ever," he replied, voice weakened by fever as he pulled the boy into his chest. With those words, the hunter felt Billy's small body meld into his, perfectly. And all that mattered now was that after a lifetime of waiting, they were reunited and were finally whole, the way it was meant to be.
SPN~SPN~SPN
Pamela walked towards the altar. She felt like she was intruding on the boy and the hunter as they sat huddled against each other. She could sense their need to be close, to be touching, to unite, if that was the right word. She turned back to look at Bobby who jutted out his chin and egged her on. He wanted her to find out what she could about the child. She looked down at Dean holding the boy, his eyes closed and his pale face glistening with sweat.
"Dean?" She called in a gentle tone, not to startle him. The young man tightened his hold and then opened his eyes slowly. It took him a few moments to focus and find the voice that was speaking to him. He tried to sit up straighter but it caused him to cough, deep and dry, folding him over. When it was over he leaned back against the altar and wiped his mouth against his sleeve.
"You okay?" Pamela's face furrowed with concern.
Dean nodded but his breaths were harsh, laboured and Billy rested his hand against the man's chest. Again, the psychic felt like an intruder watching the small boy somehow calm the hunter with his presence and touch. Pamela knelt next to the young man, placed her hand over his forehead and had a vision of swirling darkness.
"Dean, what's wrong?" Pamela asked.
The young man tried to push the psychic away but only managed to hang on to her arm as he coughed hoarse and deep.
"It's the sickness," Billy said, his small face marred by worry.
"What sickness?"
Billy scooted to Dean's side to help keep him upright. "Dust sickness…," he stated, adding, "Everyone had it."
"Who's everyone?"
Billy's eyes darkened. "All of us…my sister… my brother," then almost as an afterthought, "Me too," and he looked at Pamela with unfathomable anguish which belied his young age.
"What happened to them?"
Billy tightened his grip on Dean, pressing his body against the young hunter. "They're dead," the boy whispered.
"What about you?" Pamela asked, wondering wondered why she had asked when it was obvious the boy was fine.
Billy gazed up at Pamela but didn't speak; he just stared, his eyes willing her to understand something she couldn't really comprehend, willing her to understand that his fate had been the same as his siblings. The psychic's heart constricted and she looked back at Dean wondering if this was a warning. Pamela motioned for Bobby to come over.
"We have to cool him down," she told the older man as he neared.
Bobby quickly knelt next to Dean, trying to get the sick hunter to focus on him, "Dean?" he said, patting his cheek. The young man tried to keep his eyes open but he was having difficulty breathing and began to cough again. "Okay, I gotcha," the older man muttered as he held up Dean during his coughing fit.
"I'll get some water," Pamela said as she rose and headed back to the pews. The young woman rummaged through some duffel bags. "We're out," she said and held up the empties.
"Sam's gone to get some food and supplies, he should be back soon," the hunter replied.
"I thought I saw a water pump out back," Pamela remembered, "Maybe, it still works." She gathered the bottles. heading for the door when she stopped and turned back. "Billy, do you wanna help?" She held up the bottles and the boy seemed torn between wanting to be of assistance and staying with Dean.
"Go ahead, kid. I'll make sure he's okay," the older hunter said reassuringly but understood Pamela's intent to get the boy alone.
Billy hesitated before he leaned towards Dean and whispered something in his ear. Pamela didn't miss the way he looked at the young man and she felt the strength of the bond between these two. She waited for Billy to join her and handed him a bottle as they exited the church.
Once outside, they saw that Sam had returned and was standing by the Impala.
"You're back," she said, walking towards the young man, her skin tingled in apprehension when she spotted the bag of salt on the ground by his feet.
The hunter looked behind him and said, "That's him." A dark haired woman revealed herself by stepping out from behind a tree.
"He's not demon," she stated casually, staring at the boy with curiousity.
"We'll see about that," Sam muttered not because he didn't trust Ruby's judgement but because he couldn't figure out this kid.
"Who is she?" Pamela asked, scrutinizing the other woman.
"She's a friend...she can see things," Sam said mockingly then turned his attention back to the boy. "Hey, Billy," he motioned, "Can you step over here." He pointed to a carefully constructed salt circle.
"We came to get water for Dean. Your brother's not feeling well." Pamela tried to get Sam to forget about any tests he made have prepared. But the child had nothing but trust and didn't hesitate to follow the hunter's directive. Billy made his way inside the circle and Ruby let out a derisive snort as if to say 'told you so'.
Billy couldn't pull his eyes away from the other woman so, Sam reached out, touching his shoulder to get his attention. The hunter pulled out a flask from his jacket and offered it to the child.
"Here, try some of this," Sam said, in a calm authoritative voice. The hunter kept his hand on the knife tucked into the back of his pants as the boy sipped at the holy water; no smoke, no burning, no reaction from the kid except to crinkle his nose at the taste and wipe the back of his shirt sleeve across his mouth before handing the flask back to Sam.
"Sam, please...," Pamela pleaded, sensing this was not going to go well. The hunter ignored her, crouching before the boy.
"Hey buddy, I just wanna ask you a few questions."
Billy nodded, no suspicion in his eyes.
"Where are your parents?"
The boy's eyes saddened and he shrugged. "I don't know…."
"Can you tell me where you live? Maybe we could find them."
Billy fidgeted, "I'm not from this place...not from now."
Sam ran his fingers through his hair; he didn't know how to interpret Billy's answer. The hunter tried a different tact. "How do you know Dean?"
The boy looked down at his feet and toed the salt line timidly. "I knew him from before."
"Before what?" Sam asked puzzled. Once again, things were not adding up.
Billy looked around, his eyes scanning for something then turned back to Sam, "Before..." he repeated.
"Before here?" The hunter tried to get a more definitive answer.
Billy nodded and added, "Before now."
Pamela finally started to put the pieces together. "They knew each other...before...before they were born." Billy's eyes brightened at her statement and then he simply smiled.
Sam turned to her in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"
"He doesn't belong here," Ruby explained, walking towards them.
The boy's face clouded over as he watched the demon approach then looked behind at the door of the church. "I want Dean," he whispered to Pamela.
Sam held up his hand and Ruby stopped immediately. The hunter gripped the boy's shoulders to calm him. "Hey buddy, it's okay. Can you tell me where you were, before here?"
The boy took a shaky breath. "Before here?" he asked and Sam nodded. Billy let out an audible sigh, "It was a dark place," he whispered then looked at Ruby with fear.
Pamela felt the terror surge into her throat like an unformed scream. She involuntarily took a step back, her breathing speed up in time with the boy's, her blood freezing inside her veins. She sensed that Billy wanted to run back inside the church but Sam grabbed the boy's wrist before he could bolt. A small whimper escaped the child as his eyes flitted between Sam and Ruby.
"Sam, you're scaring him," Pamela said, moving forward and placing her hand around Billy's shoulder, feeling oddly protective and responsible for this child.
"Are you going to send us back?" Billy huffed with a tremble in his voice.
Before Sam could say or do anything, the door of the church flew open and Dean was standing there, holding his chest and breathing hard, his face mired in fear. Bobby spilled out behind the frightened hunter, confusion lining his features and then understanding at the sight before him. Dean's eyes darted from Billy to Sam to Ruby and the look of betrayal on his brother's face nearly cut Sam in half.
"Dean...I," Sam started without much conviction.
"No one...is going anywhere," Dean growled for all to hear.
My, my, aren't using strong words, Deano. Don't make promises you can't keep.
The psychic heard the voice in her own head and recognized it. It was the same voice from her dream the night before. A dream so dark that her consciousness had refused to let it surface, until now. Pamela swallowed, recalling how she'd dreamt of a place where the air was thick and suffocating, where the obscurity was so heavy it swallowed you until there was nothing left. She had dreamt of a landscape littered with broken souls tortured beyond recognition. She had dreamt of the darkest place imaginable, of fear so deep and so wide that no one could escape it, outrun it or outlast it. She had dreamt of Dean in that place and of something inconceivable, something impossible emerging; a soul, unscathed, made of light and hope and love. And in her dream, the darkness took what it wanted and it wanted everything. It wanted to extinguish this light, crush hope and defeat love. And in order to do that, it had to tear Dean apart. And it did and Pamela now knew this was not a dream, this had happened and the danger was real and it was here.
"Dean...please," Sam stared at his brother with remorse knowing he'd made a mistake by bringing Ruby here.
"Let him go," Dean hissed.
Sam stood his movements slow and steady, releasing his hold on the child as did Pamela. But the boy didn't run to Dean, he stood his ground until Sam looked back at him.
"He always chooses you," Billy said with heart-rending honesty and Sam heard the unfinished question, 'why can't you choose him?' The young hunter had no answer to that, no answer to how this boy knew them so well. Billy turned and ran towards Dean, sliding behind the hunter and holding on to the hem of Dean's shirt. Dean snaked his hand back feeling for the boy, relaxing when he touched him.
Let's see where were we...oh yes, a little more blood is in order.
Dean blinked furiously at the pain boring into his brain then looked down to see blood dropping lazily onto his jacket and the ground below. The hunter swiped at his nose, smearing blood across his cheek and coughing wetly as the thick liquid slid down his throat.
Having a little trouble breathing, pup? Oh, not to worry I'll make sure you're around long enough to watch your boy being cut wide open.
Dean's heart constricted at these words and he felt himself swaying dangerously. He reached out to find purchase, to avoid falling over and Billy moved forward, allowing the hunter to place his hands on his shoulders to regain his balance.
"Easy, son," Bobby breathed in his best soothing voice from behind the hunter. "Why don't we just go back inside and talk this out?"
They can't be trusted, pup. They're going to deliver you and your boy right back to me.
Dean looked at the older man as he gulped air. He shook his head no and Bobby took a step forward but stopped when Dean stepped back. The young man had never been frightened of him and this was all the proof he needed of how sick Dean was.
"Son, you're not feeling well," Bobby said as he watched Dean's jacket darken with blood. "Let me help," he offered while carefully moving forward and reaching out.
Dean moved with surprising speed; grabbed the older hunter's gun from his waistband, spun behind him and hooked his arm around his neck in one fluid motion. Bobby felt the gun pressed against his cheek and the young man's hot breath pounding into the side of his face. The older man knew he could take the kid if he wanted but he'd never be able to regain Dean's trust, the trust Sam did a bang up job of throwing out the window. Bobby locked eyes with Sam warning him to stay back and not do anything stupid. Sam acknowledged by holding up his hands in a sign of surrender.
Dean stood there with Bobby at his mercy and everyone staring and waiting for his next move.
"Dean, we'll do it your way, okay?" Bobby's words were meant to appease.
How convenient...they'll do it your way now that you have the gun...do it Deano...do it just the way I taught you, boy.
Dean's chest tightened and his body stiffened at that tone of voice which made him feel like he was back in the pit, knife in hand and some poor soul on the rack. He hadn't wanted to do those things, he didn't, but he knew better than to cross Alastair. Knew that every suggestion was an order and knew oh so well, that there were consequences for disregarding such orders.
Dean clung to Bobby like a lifeline, but even this man who was like a father to him was no match for Alastair's pull.
The world seemed to slow and every sound was amplified just like down there; his own stuttering breath was like a roar to his ears and Bobby's heartbeat reverberated through his whole being. He could feel the world closing in on him as Alastair clicked his tongue rhythmically like a clock counting down time. Do it...do it...do it...
The hunter felt his heart racing and his muscles trembling because he was powerless to stop this.
Do it...Completely and utterly powerless.
Do it...Dean closed his eyes certain he was no longer in control of his own body.
Do it...He knew it when he carefully placed his thumb on the hammer of the gun.
Do it...Knew it when he drew it back slow and deliberate.
Do it...
TBC...