A/N!Hey! So, thank you all for your support, it means so much to me! Here is chapter 2!|
WARNING! Shown torture. (Not much, but be aware.)
So, off we go! Enjoy!
Chapter 2: "He, who defeated the Devil..."
NOW
Dean's eyes burned. Burned with rage and hate, burned with sadness and pain... Burned as they watched Lucifer engulf his fingers in flames, burned as they watched those fiery tips linger on the skin of Sam's inner knees, forming words as they moved. Bitch. Whore. Tainted. Dean wanted to turn away. He wanted to crawl in the corner and hug his head with his hands, so as to block the images and muffle the sounds. Lucifer let his hand fall to the side as he thrust forwards brutally, mercilessly, his cruel penetration tearing the sensitive flesh of Sam's entrance. The sound which emerged from the depths of Sam's throat was strange, neither a cry nor a shriek.
Dean wished for his soul to die right there and then. He wished for it to linger and die, like a rose assaulted by the cold winter's wind. Dean tried to turn away, but he then stopped himself. Sam yelped again, his body hitting the cold floor hard, as the Devil moved. Yes, Dean thought. Now it would be a good time to die...
THEN...
Dean looked at his mother and for the first time ever since her unexpected return, he had the feeling that she was really looking back at him. "Dean... All this, it's my fault... And I am afraid that Sam won't forgive me-" "Mom, Sam never blamed you to begin with. Not even when he learned about your deal with Azazel." The green eyed man reassured, allowing his mother to help him sit down on the one chair which was intact and not broken by the fierce fight which had taken place between Dean and Ketch. Dean lowered himself on the chair with slow, careful movements. His leg however, kept sending him sharp waves of pain every two minutes and the hunter was positive his knee was almost broken. Mary darted her head from right to the left, taking in, the two dead bodies which were now covered with blankets.
"Mom, Ketch had it coming." Dean's low, yet warm voice echoed in the room, making Mary turn her gaze back on her firstborn. "But Toni... She had a son Dean. A four-year-old son." "That was Ketch's doing." the hunter answered swiftly, leaving no room for an argument. Mary just lowered her gaze and grabbed the first-aid kit from where it was lying on the floor, bringing it before Dean's injured leg. "Even so, I got us into this. And now Sam is there and has to fight the Brits, because I trusted them. If something happens to him, then what am I supposed to-" The woman's rambling was short lived however, for Dean's deep, almost possessive tone made her blink and pause.
"Sam will fight and he will win. He promised me." "The Brits are good, Dean-" "Sam is better. Better than them all. He has fought Lucifer and he won. Twice." The last word was spoken sharply, in a weird tone. Mary's face darkened at that tone, but she chose to remain silent as she continued tending to Dean's wound as best as she could. Applying iodine to the torn flesh, the woman made sure to clean the wound before wrapping the ravaged skin in clear bandages. "When you were inside my head, you said that..." Trailing off, Mary took a minute to regain her composure before speaking again.
Dean allowed her to pretend, that her silence was a result of her focusing on fastening the knot she had made, in order to to secure the bandage around Dean's ravaged leg and keep it in place. When this was over, Mary had no choice but to speak again. "You said that Sam was tortured in Hell." She muttered, voice wavering. "Then, how come he looks... Well, he looks fine to me." Dean's bitter sigh made Mary lower her gaze even more. "For one, Cas helped with that." The woman let her eyebrows come together at the sound of those words. "But you helped too, didn't you?" The question was spoken calmly, in an even voice.
How could Dean answer that? How could he tell his mother what he had done back then? How could he ever tell her that John had another kid? How could he ever tell her that he had chosen Sam over Adam in a blink of an eye, dooming the latter to a fate far worse than death? "Yes, I... I did what I had to, to help him." Dean eventually admitted, pressing his hand on his knitted eyebrows. "But mom, what I did is not the reason why Sam looks fine." But the green eyed man had to stop himself for yet another time. He wasn't allowed to reveal to his mother, that despite Cas' help, Sam still had nightmares and even got panic attacks whenever he was enclosed in a small room.
No, he couldn't tell her that many were the nights during which, he was woken up by a desperate howl of his own name, to find Sam crawled into a ball, in the far corner of their room, shaking and trembling. And more importantly, he could never tell her that most of those nights, he and Sam had made love and then had fallen asleep, side by side, limps tangled up. "What do you mean, Dean?" Mary's small voice got Dean out of his thoughts.
"I mean that Sam is strong, mom. He looks fine to you, because despite the torments Lucifer put him through, Sam's heart is filled with love and care for others. He wants to help people, to make the world a better place. So he puts aside his own troubles and focuses on helping others. Even if that means, he'll have to face Lucifer again." At that point, Dean's voice trailed off, and silence fell in the room. Mary's blue eyes shone under the yellowish light and she let her lips form a smile.
"Never did Sam succumb to Lucifer, mom. Never did he kneel before him, he never gave up. He is the man who defeated the Devil." Those words were leaving Dean's lips fast, yet in a low tone, and at some point, the green eyed man paused to breathe. He wanted to say more. He wanted his mother to know that, even though Sam thought that his soul was tainted, stained with demon blood and broken, molded by Lucifer's cruel touch, this wasn't the case. No, Dean knew that, he had seen Sam's soul and he would never forget the feelings he got.
So, yes, Dean wanted to tell his mother about Sammy's soul, how it was still shining like an evening star, shining with a purifying light which was what was keeping Dean on the right track. He wanted to tell her, God, how he wanted to. But he didn't, not only because she was his mother, but because he doubted he could ever utter those words aloud to begin with. Swallowing soundly, Dean let his eyes fall closed, taking a moment to organize his swirling thoughts. When he spoke again, his words were meaningful and true. "So, don't worry about the Brits, mom. Sam will kick their fine ass. He will come back to me." Dean's whisper almost went unheard by Mary, who was placing the first aid kit aside at that moment. She fixed her gaze on Dean's vacant one, asking with her eyes what she couldn't with words.
What do you mean?
"Sam will come back to me, to us mom, and then we can start over. Be a proper family. Me, you and Sammy." Dean quickly added, cursing inwardly for his big mouth. It was true that he and Sam had crossed the line of being more than brothers many, many years ago, but that was something Mary didn't really have to know. But then, Dean's green eyes widened in realization. He had uttered those same words a long time ago, at the time when he and Sam were looking for John. Back then, he had dared to speak of his endless longing, of his desire to put what was left of his family back together.
But as fate would have it, that wish was never meant to be granted... After his father's sudden death, Dean raised thick walls inside his mind and heart, making sure to never again allow his feelings to take over him. But that endless longing, the need to have his family by his side, to have their protection, their love, their tenderness, was something he could never control. So, as the years passed, Dean did the only thing he could, so as to suppress that feeling of unfulfillment, which was lingering in his heart. He focused on the only living member of his family. His brother. His Sammy.
If Sam was alright, then that was all Dean ever wanted. So long he had his brother by his side, Dean could swear he was feeling relieved, complete and at ease. That longing still haunted his troubled mind, but when Sam was near, Dean knew he had what he needed. But now, as his emerald green eyes took in the image of his mother, Dean could once again feel that same longing coming alive deep inside him, setting his heart on fire, giving life to hopes long deemed gone. Maybe, just maybe, this time it would be different. Maybe, this time, he would finally gather his family together... Yes, the only thing missing, was Sam. And Sam would be back soon, Dean was sure of it. And then, they could start over. They could be a proper family.
"Mom, I mean it. When Sam gets back, we can-" Before Dean could add anything else however, the lights of the bunker flickered and the air momentarily cooled, as if a ghost had just entered. Both Mary as well as Dean, tensed, the instinct of the hunter taking over them in less than a fragment of a second. Mary turned around swiftly, reaching behind her back, for the gun she always kept in the back of her jeans. The clicking sound of the safety being removed was swallowed by the humming noise of the flickering lights, but Dean's keen eyes caught the movement. For a few minutes no one dared to breathe, but when the lights went back to normal, the green eyed man let his shoulders fall, all the while resting his back on the wooden chair.
"Don't worry mom, the lights probably got messed up by what that son of a bitch did earlier. I'll have Sam take a look when he comes back." Dean smiled at his mother, who then relaxed her hold on the gun she was gripping. "Sorry, guess you're right." She eventually muttered, lowering her gaze. "Old habits die hard huh?" She added, flicking her eyes between her gun and Dean, whose lips were turned upwards. His smile was short lived however, as a cold, disturbingly thick voice echoed in the bunker's main room. "Oh, she's got a point, you know." The voice said, and a male figure which Dean had hoped would never see again crawled out of a dark corner...
"Old habits die hard. Old loves, they die harder... Don't they, Dean?" The voice questioned, making the hair on Dean's arms rise, as a chill worked its way down his spine. This couldn't be...
End of chapter 2
A/N! i HOPE YOU ENJOYED! Please, let me know if you did!
Until next time,
Love you all,
Usagi!
