A/N! Happy new year to you al! I wish you the best! May you have health, may you dind hapiness and love along the way!
So, here is the last two chapters of this story. Thank you all for all your support, for your comments, for your kudos, and for just reading the story!
I wish you'll enjoy this!! A/N!
Chapter 12: "Desperate needs, require desperate deeds..." (Epilogue: Part 1)
THEN...
"Go to Hell... And stay there..." Dean heard Sam's weak- way too weak- whispers and knew that his captor was as surprised as he was, if not more. "You son of a bitch, when will you learn your place?" The Devil howled, but before he could make a move, Dean obliged his hands to move, and he grabbed the wrist of Lucifer's right hand, which was the one he held the knife with. Time stopped then, and the Devil glared daggers towards Sam, who found the strength to speak again. "When will you learn... That I won't let you win? That I won't let you harm him?" He said, pressing his palm on the expelling symbol. The next second, the room was bathed in a white light, and Dean was careful, to instantly close his eyes against the blinding glow. The green eyed man yelped in pain as soon as he felt Lucifer's hands dissolving into light and dust and he couldn't help but fall face down to the floor.
And so it was, that the Fallen Angel had been defeated for yet another time. Because he had made the worst mistake possible. He had underestimated his opponent... And Sam Winchester, was an opponent you should not underestimate...
NOW...
The blinding light faded into nothing mere moments after Sam had pressed his palm on the expelling symbol, which he had somehow managed to paint on a dry portion of the cold floor. No sooner did the light fade, than Dean gasped, taking in deep, uneven breaths. He struggled and eventually got on his feet, frame shaking and trembling. "Dean!" Mary rasped in horror, but the green eyed man extended his hand towards her, silently suggesting that she shouldn't come anywhere near him. And she really shouldn't, Dean thought to himself as his eyes took in the brass knuckles which he was still gripping tightly. To say that his blood was boiling in his veins and that his flesh was thirsting for blood, would be an understatement.
"Mom, go to the control room, go power up the wards. Now!" Dean ordered as he struggled to take a few steps to where Sam was lying. The woman hesitated, eyeing her eldest through a veil of tears. "Mom, go, please, you have to go now, before Lucifer comes back." The hunter explained tiredly, voice hoarse, heavy. Mary took in a sharp inhale, letting her gaze momentarily find Sam's figure. She turned her face to the side, swallowing hard at the heartbreaking sight. "Okay, alright." Was all she uttered, afraid to point out the fact that, after his heroic action, Sam's eyes had fallen closed and his ravaged body had gone rigid. "It's the third lever, it's the only one I haven't turned back up." Dean declared, and Mary bit her lip at the amount of self-loathing her son's voice held. She nodded her head, saying nothing else, before turning on her heel, heading towards the control room.
"Sam, Sammy!" The green eyed man croaked out hoarsely, taking unsteady wobbly steps towards his brother. "No..." Dean breathed out, voice wavering. His legs trembled and he found himself unable to remain on his feet. A small sploshing sound was heard then, as Dean's knees made contact with the pool of blood which had formed all around Sam. The splash made the older hunter flinch, as it echoed loudly in the deathly silence of the banker. Dean swallowed hard, flicking his gaze from Sam's pale face to his own hands. With slow, hesitant movements he extended his hands, wishing to caress his brother's face. He stopped dead-in-his-tracks however, as the silver brush knuckles shone under the dim light of the room. Silver, stained with blood, was covering Dean's long callused fingers and the green-eyed man hissed at the sight. Upon realizing he was about to touch Sam with those stained hands, Dean physically recoiled, drawing them away from his brother's body.
As if afraid that Sam would disappear from where he was lying, Dean kept his eyes on him, whilst obliging his right hand to move. He removed the brush-knuckles from his left hand and then from his right hand, with fingers numb and cold. A loud thud echoed in the room when the silver brush-knuckles hit the floor, but the rattle went unheard, because all that mattered for Dean, was the slow, uneven breath Sam had just taken in. "Sammy!" Dean rasped, tasting blood as he spoke. Sam's frame shuddered and Dean's hands- now free of all the hellish bounds- moved in their own accord, cupping Sam's face. "Sam, hey, hey, it's me, baby boy, it's me..." All the fire which was Dean's blood was suddenly transformed into a sea of thick, liquid ice, as the urge to help and protect Sam overpowered even the most powerful of desires Dean might have had at that moment.
The hunter's muttered reassurances fell on deaf ears however, as Sam was unable to hear what his brother was saying. "Sammy-" The humming sound of the warding system cut Dean off, and emerald green eyes shone ever so brightly, as they witnessed all the wards shining one by one. Dean's eyes followed the trail of the wardings and moved from one side of the main room to the other, making sure that each and every symbol was activated. The lights were also restored back to normal and Dean found himself thanking Chuck for the fact that Lucifer could no longer enter the bunker. Green eyes returned back on Sam's ravaged frame, blurring as the extend of the injuries was now visible better than ever before, due to the many lights. Dean shivered, vaguely aware of the fact that his own body was also on the verge of giving out.
"Hello boys..." Came a low snarl from the back of the room, making Dean's eyes fly open. "You?" The hunter rasped, turning his head to the side. "You were supposed to be dead..." Was all Dean blurted out as he tried to get on his feet. "So were you, a long, long time ago. But no, here we both are." Was all Crowley replied sarcastically. "Well, it's good that you're not dead..." Dean muttered and his voice trailed off. The pause caused Crowley to raise an eyebrow. "Because that means I have the chance to kill you..." Dean croaked out, obliging himself to get up on his feet. His attempt was unsuccessful however, for he slipped on the pool of blood, falling down on the floor next to Sam's still body, yet again. Crowley blew out a heavy sigh and moved closer to the brothers, his black coat flapping gracefully as he moved.
"You sold us out, you slimy son of a bitch!" Dean rasped in anger, his blood-shot eyes glaring daggers towards the former King of Hell. Crowley stared back at Dean, his face unreadable. "You are the reason why Rowena's spell didn't work, you're the reason Lucifer came here-" "Yes, you're right, I am a selfish, very selfish demon!" The King of Hell retorted, underlining the last word, as if trying to remind Dean of his origin. "But I am also your only hope at saving yourself as well as your brother." Crowley pointed out, darting his eyes on Sam. Dean gasped, but before he could do or say anything, he started coughing uncontrollably, body writhing and shaking. Blood welled up in Dean's throat and the green-eyed hunter found himself gasping for air all the while he spewed out, gulp after gulp of blood.
"Dean!" Mary croaked out in panic, as soon as her son's hunched frame became visible from the end of the corridor, where she was standing. The blond woman ran all the way up to Dean, falling on her knees beside him when she had finally reached him. "And you must be mama Winchester." Crowley spoke casually, as he kneeled next to Dean. "Who the Hell are you?" Mary rasped in anger. "Crowley, the King of Hell. Surely, you have heard of me-" A gun was pointed at him before he could finish that sentence and Mary, honoring the title of the expert hunter, got back on her feet, finger on the trigger. "Step away from my sons." She commanded, but all Crowley did was to get his hand in the pocket of his coat and reveal a small vial. "What's that?" Mary snapped, gun still aiming Crowley at the head. "Angel grace. I had created a stash a few years back. And since there is no available Angel nearby, this is the only thing that can save Dean." Crowley explained in a hurry and wasted no more time in politics.
"Will you help me, or will you keep pointing the gun at me?" The demon rasped, eyeing Mary. "For all I know you could be killing him!" She retorted at once. "Believe me, mama Winchester, he doesn't need my help to die, he has done a fantastic job on his own!" Crowley replied as he pushed Dean, who was still coughing, backwards. "Why are you helping them? You're a demon." Mary asked, as she placed Dean's head on her lap. "Because... They are the only ones who can save this world." Crowley admitted dryly. He then opened the small vial and let his red eyes come forth. With a movement of his hand, he spilled the shining substance all over Dean, making sure to use his telekinetic powers in order to hold the floating Angel Grace close to Dean's body. Mary gasped in bewilderment when she saw that the cuts on Dean's hands, as well as his cracked bones were starting to heal.
Dean let out a breathy sigh and his eyes fluttered closed as the Angelic grace surrounded him. Mere moments later, it dissolved into nothing. "Where did it go?" Mary muttered in a low voice. "Do I look like an Angel to you?" Crowley snapped. "I just willed the Angelic grace to stay close to Dean's body and heal him. Hopefully, there is still a trail of Castiel's grace in Dean's blood, from when he pulled him out of Hell. If that's the case, then the grace I gave Dean will enter his system and heal him, for he has been saved from Hell by an actual Angel." The demon explained, deeply annoyed. Mary opened her mouth to speak, to ask what was going on, but then Dean opened his eyes, breathing in and out many times. As soon as the room stopped spinning, Dean bolted upright, almost knocking Crowley out.
"Dean, calm down-" "What did you do?" Dean rasped, grabbing Crowley by the collar of his coat, pinning him down on the floor. "What did you do, you son of a-" "Dean, he saved you!" Mary cried out, her remark causing Dean to stop his movements. "How?" "Likely for you, Dean, I had some Angel Grace stored away from the time when your pall Castiel was working with me. I always carry a couple of vials with me." Crowley said, pushing Dean's hands away, getting up from the floor and on his feet. He straightened his coat, before speaking again. "I used the first vial to heal myself and the second one, on you." He continued, his tone dark. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Crowley stopped him, raising his index finger. "Your body recognized the Angelic energy and accepted it. You see, there is still a trail of Castiel's grace within you, so your body responded, despite the fact that I am no Angel." Dean could only stare at the man before him.
"Why did you save me? Sam needs-" Dean came to an abrupt halt, all words dying in his throat at the sound of his own words. Oh God, Sam... Dean turned his head to the left, eyes widening as he saw that his brother was still lying on the floor, surrounded by his own blood. Dean swallowed hard, frame shuddering. "Help him!" Dean commanded in a frantic voice. "I am no Angel, and your brother is past saving. The best you can do, is to put a bullet in him. Put him out of his misery." Crowley muttered, eyeing Mary, whose face darkened. Her eyes flew to Sam, and she gasped as she saw the small breaths her youngest was taking in. "The only one who will get a bullet in his head will be you, Crowley." Dean hissed, eyes burning. "Dean... Look at him... He's suffering..." Mary's voice trailed off, fading into nothing. Yet the words she didn't utter made Dean shiver. He glared at his mother, but chose to focus on the demon for the time being.
"You wanted to get your revenge from Lucifer, but it all backfired and now, your ass is on the line. You got away once, Crowley, but lets face it, there won't be a next time." Dean hissed, hovering over Sam protectively, not caring that his jeans were damped in Sam's blood. Mary's eyes snapped on Crowley, her mouth falling open. "You need us to help you with Lucifer. You need us, to save you. That's why you came here." Dean pointed out, eyes cold, unforgiving. "And you know it, that if there is the slightest chance of defeating Lucifer, you need both of us to fight." Dean continued, waving his hand between his and Sam's bodies. "So, you're going to help me save Sam, or else, I swear, I'll put a bullet in your head." The words were spoken lowly. Dean wasn't just threatening Crowley, he was promising that he would end him.
Crowley blew out a heavy breath, moving closer to Sam's body, letting his eyes take in the gashes, the broken bones and the burned flesh. "We should get him to a bed." the demon said, placing his index and middle finger of each hand on Sam and Dean's foreheads, transporting them in Dean's room. Mary's eyes flew open when all three of them disappeared from before her eyes, but Dean's voice, which was coming from his room, calmed her down. She got up and rushed into the room, gasping when she saw Dean's sheets drenched in blood.
"What can we do for him?" Mary uttered, voice wavering. "His injuries are too sever, and much deeper than the eye can see." "Lucifer said..." Dean paused, but forced himself to keep going a moment later. "Lucifer said he burned his soul..." The green-eyed man stumbled on his own words. "If that's the case, then, no amount of Angelic grace, or spell, nor yet a doctor can heal the physical wounds." Crowley said, his voice steady, yet to Mary it sounded sad.
"The only way to heal him, is from the inside." Dean's face frowned, for he had heard those words before. "If you're talking about a possession-" "No, no. You need to heal his soul. If his soul could be restored, then his body would heal." Mary raised an eyebrow at the sound of these words. "If there is one thing I've learned from when I was hanging out with your pet-Angel, Castiel, it's that a human soul- damaged as it may be- holds an immense amount of pure energy, which is capable of things your little mind can't possibly coperhent." Crowley said, voice filled with irony. "Okay, so what do I do?" Dean rasped, voice high pitched. "For starters, you'll need to get inside his mind. From there, you'll have to search for him." "What?" Both Dean and Mary questioned at the same time. "When someone's memories are being destroyed, he's trying to find solace in the depths of his mind. Sam is alive- albeit barely- because he has managed to flee deep within his mind, in a place—in a memory which Lucifer didn't ravage." Crowley explained in a hurry.
Dean's eyes widened as his mind recalled the fiery tongues Lucifer had conjured and how they were burning Sam's flesh... How they were burning his memories... 'I have seen everything Dean...' The Devil's voice echoed in the hunter's head, cold and cruel. Dean's heart sunk in an ocean of despair, only to miss a beat and stumble on itself a mere moment later. "There is one memory Lucifer didn't see..." The green eyed man uttered, licking his lips. "I'm guessing that you do know what that memory is about." Crowley pointed out. Dean could only nod. "If you do this, you'll need African dream root. Lots of it." The demon pressed, watching as Dean got on his feet and exited the room as soon as the last word had reached his ears.
Mary swallowed hard, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, whilst her back was leaning heavily against the wall. She was standing as far from the drenched bed as the room would allow her. "What are the chances of Dean succeeding in bringing Sam back?" She asked hesitantly. "The chances are too small." Was all the man replied, eyeing the blond hunter thoroughly.
Mary lowered her gaze, letting her shoulders fall. She took a moment, as if weighing her options and then she spoke. "And what happens to Dean if he fails to get Sam out of wherever he has fled?" The words were spoken in a low tone. "He will get trapped in Sam's mind and he will eventually die. His soul will linger and will eventually burn out. His body will follow down the same path, and his heart will inevitably stop." "So, he will die." Mary rasped hoarsely. "It's worse than death. His soul will dim and fade, leaving his body empty." Mary darted her head upwards. "Then, I will be the one to do it." She offered, voice relatively steady. "You can't. You don't know any of Sam's memories." Dean, who entered the room holding a glass filled with African dream root, stated, leaving no room for an argument. "Dean-" "Crowley, give us a minute." The hunter said and the King of Hell left the room muttering something about 'ludicrous family drama' under his breath.
"Dean, I'm his mother. I'm your mother!" The woman muttered, voice wavering. "I was screaming bloody murder for hours on end when I gave birth to Sam and then... Then, I never got the chance to be there for him." Mary continued, flourishing her hand between Sam and Dean's bodies in an attempt to emphasize her point. "And when I thought I could finally make up for the lost time, Lucifer burst in and I found myself locked away, pounding on the door whilst listening to Sam screaming and crying out your name..." "Mom, stop this." Dean tried to speak, but his throat was dry all of a sudden. "I can't sit here and do nothing. At least let me do this one thing..." The woman pleaded brokenly. Silence then fell in the room, but was short lived, for Dean spoke, voice low, but steady. "You can't do it, mom. You just can't." The green-eyed man said, dragging a chair next to the bed, whilst placing the glass with the African dream root on the nightstand.
"You don't know that Dean-" "Yes, I do. I know it, because I know Sam. I know him like the back of my hand. I raised him. I was always there. Through the good, the bad, the ugly. I was there when he would cry, when he would smile. I trained him. I made sure he had enough food to eat even if that meant I didn't get to eat at all. I watched him grow and..." Dean trailed off, pressing a hand on his face. "And I have always been looking out for him. I am not going to stop now." Dean concluded, seeing that Crowley was standing by the door. "Dean you love him more than you should." Mary rasped, her words echoing loud in the silence. Their hidden meaning however, was crystal clear to Dean. "Yeah, I do. I do love him. I love him so much that I can't control it. So, if there is a chance that my stained, burned, broken soul can heal him, then I'll take it." Dean said dryly. His words were heavy and raw, and Mary had to physically recoil. She took a step back, as if she had been slapped.
"Dean... Your feelings for Sam are-" "My feelings for Sam got out of hand a long time ago and turned into feelings no siblings should ever have for one another." Dean muttered, looking at Sam. "But in all this madness, in all this never-ending fight, my feelings for Sam kept me sane. And when Sam returned them in earnest, then I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt, that this fire which was burning inside me would never fade." Dean's voice trailed off then and silence leaped between the two hunters. "Mom, I know you can't just be okay with what Sam and I have. But-" Mary, however, cut Dean off.
"Sam... Does he... Share those feelings?" Mary heard herself asking and blinked reflexively. Dean's eyes scanned his mother's face before returning to Sam. "Yes, mom. Sammy-" Dean paused, swallowing hard. "Sam loves me more than he should. Maybe more than I love him." The green-eyed man whispered and the weight of his statement came crashing down on him the very next second. Of course Sam loved Dean more than it was humanly possible. He allowed Lucifer to torture and abuse him, so that Dean would remain unharmed...
Unspoken words were hanging over their heads, but neither mother nor son pressed the matter. Now it was not the time. "Mom, if you want to help, then keep an eye on Crowley." Mary nodded her head and Dean sat on the chair. Crowley took the hint, entering the room. He was careful, however and remained close to the door. "You know you're signing up for a suicide mission, don't you?" He questioned, but Dean remained silent. "Once you find that unstained memory, you'll have to search for Sam. He will most likely be hiding. I doubt he will even recognize you. Regardless of that, you have to try to earn his trust. You have to get him to follow you out of that safe place and back on the surface." The demon further elaborated, but Dean ignored him, for he opened the drawer. "Weapons are useless in a mental plane." Crowley stated, and Mary could almost hear his eyes rolling. Yet, what Dean got out of the drawer was not a weapon, nor a knife. It was a necklace. "An amulet?" Mary questioned as she watched Dean passing the thin leather cord over his head, letting the small bronze amulet fall in its usual place.
"I'm going to get you out, Sam. I promise you..." The man muttered deep in his throat. He then grabbed the glass with the dream root, emptying it in one long gulp, not caring about the awful taste which was left lingering on the tip of his tongue. He placed the now empty glass on the nightstand and waited, knowing that he would soon be asleep. "Dean?" Mary's voice sounded distant when the woman called his name, and Dean managed to move his hands, gripping Sam's numb ones tightly. 'I'll get you out Sammy, I'll get you out, or I'll die trying.' Dean thought to himself. It was the last thing he thought before letting his eyes flutter closed and then everything went black.
When Dean opened his green eyes again, all breath left his lungs. He found himself not in his room, but in the middle of a- "Where the Hell am I?" The man muttered under his breath, but he immediately regretted his decision, for the air he inhaled was hot and dry, filled with ash and dust. Dean started coughing frantically, and placed his hand before his nose and mouth in an attempt to filter the air which was entering his system. But it was futile, every inhale was painful, as if thousands of razors were traveling down Dean's throat. The hunter cursed inwardly but the need to find Sam pulled him back on his feet. He told himself he was inside Sam's mind and with this thought in his head, Dean got up and took in his surroundings, keeping in mind that he needed to find Bobby's house, for there was where Sam had fled, that was the only memory which Lucifer hadn't been able to see.
Dean blinked a couple of times and waved his head from side to side, gasping in horror at the sight he beheld. He was standing in the middle of nowhere. He was standing all alone, in the middle of an open space, with a deathly silence hanging over his head. He gazed at the ground below him, letting his foot kick some of the dust which was on it. The small cloud started floating in the air and Dean's eyes widened when he realized that what he was stepping on was a thin layer of ash. Dean swallowed hard, darting his head upwards. A cold, graceless light was illuminating the gray sky, but Dean's brows came together as he saw that there were no clouds hiding the sun. The sky was just an endless, plane, gray orb, which did nothing to help Dean get a sense of direction. Clearing his throat, the man opened his mouth to speak.
"Sam? Sammy, where are you?" Dean called out, as he started to walk. Where he was going however, he had no idea. "Sammy!" Dean yelled again, and again, stopping only when he felt he had stepped on something. Taking a step back, Dean extended his hand, taking a hold of a tiny, dusty little thing, which he brought before his eyes. Blowing the dust and ash from it, Dean gasped as he realized that, in between his fingers he was holding the ring Sam had bought for Jessica all those years ago. "Sam! Sammy!" Dean cried out anew, darting his head from side to side. He noticed that a few feet from where he was standing, there seemed to be an old building. Dean ran towards it, climbing the external staircase which led him to a closed gate. On the upper part of it, there was an inscription, which read: "Welcome to Stanford University."
Dean let out a pained sigh, for the building was also burned to the ground. This inscription was all that was left of a life Sam once had and could never dream of again. As he turned around, Dean took in the scene before him. Below him lay a vast field, which was covered in dust and ash. It was spreading endlessly; cold, cruel emptiness, was all Dean's eyes could see. The fade, peculiar light which was coming from above was now flaring, so Dean narrowed his eyes, scanning the ravaged land for any sign of Bobby's house. But to no avail. Scattered across the wasteland –which was Sam's mind- were only burned buildings, which were still smoking, logs and broken brunches. Dean's eyes watered and his breath hitched. There was nothing left standing, no sign of life, only ash, crumbling buildings, dust and death. "No..." Dean uttered under his breath, voice cracking. "No, no... Sam, no..." The whispers were lost in the surrounding silence and Dean felt his heart missing several beats...
"No!" Dean croaked out, as he started running. He wouldn't give up, not now. He climbed down the stairs, and headed to his right, and what he thought to be the West, leaving the burned building of Stanford University behind him. And he ran, for miles on end, until the cold light which was illuminating the deserted landscape faded away and darkness fell over the vast wasteland, surrounding everything, concealing every possible trail, leaving Dean unable to keep going. The green-eyed man came to a halt, pounding for breath, his face drenched in sweat. His knees trembled, resulting in Dean falling down on the ground as he attempted to take another step. Specks of ash and dust started swirling around him, moving in a crazy dance. Dean breathed out a shaky breath, flinching when a white light shone ever so bright in the dark.
Green eyes widened and Dean lowered his head, gazing at the amulet which was hanging around his neck. The all too familiar shape of the necklace had also shaped Dean's bones and the hunter bit his lip at the thought he had once thrown it away. Grabbing it with numb fingers, Dean managed to pass it over his head. He held the bronze amulet in his grasp, staring in awe and bewilderment as a white, purifying light was coming out of it. His pupils shone as the glow got trapped within them and Dean got back on his feet, heart hammering in his chest. 'It glows when God is near...' Castiel's words echoed loud in Dean's head and the hunter took off once again, obliging his feet to work as fast as possible, knowing however, that the glow wasn't an indication that God was near. No. Maybe the amulet could lead one to God. But Dean knew that this was not what his heart; what his soul was searching for.
No. Dean was searching for Sam and this amulet, the first and everlasting proof of Sam's loyalty and unconditional love, was a part of his soul. Dean could hear Sam's voice in his ears as he ran, and he felt tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. 'Dean, I never threw it away. I couldn't. I picked it up from that trashcan and kept it all these years because I... Because I wanted you to ask me to give it back to you. I hoped that one day, I would manage to earn your trust, and that you would want it back.' 'I shouldn't have thrown it away-' 'It doesn't matter, not anymore.' Sam had said, when the two of them were lying on Dean's bed, after the latter had saved Sam from Lady Toni's basement. 'All that matters is that... In this thing, there will always be a part of me... And that part of me will always belong to you, Dean...' The words were all Dean could hear. The beating of his heart, the thuds of his steps, his uneven breaths, everything seemed to dim away into nothing, as those words were swirling in Dean's mind.
So, Dean kept going, kept running, clenching his fingers around the amulet so hard, his knuckles had turned white. "Come on, you have to lead me to him, come on, come on..." Dean chanted as he gasped for breath. On and on he went, until he finally saw a shadow on the ground. Raising his eyes, Dean let out a breathy sigh, unclenching his fingers, so as to cast a glimpse at the necklace. He smiled, letting his eyes find the source of the shadow. And they did find it at once, for Bobby's house was standing a few feet away. Dean let his lips form a smile for the first time ever since Lucifer had entered the bunker. He wore the necklace once more, took in a deep breath, and headed towards the house... "I'm here Sammy, I'm here baby boy..." He chanted as he pushed the door open...
End of chapter 12
A/N! So, here it ends!
Last chapter will be right up!
I hope you enjoyed it!!
