This one's up soon as promised. :) No gauruntees about time after this. School takes time and so does work but I will be writing. I plan to finish this. I'm not sure how yet, but that's part of the fun.

Ch. 7

Present.

Dean wakes only a couple hours after falling asleep. It only takes him a split second to figure out why. The screaming coming from his brother is something he had never wanted to hear again. It's such an agonizing sound. Something he only ever hears from Sam when he's dreaming of his time in the cage. It's what brought up the search for something that would stop the nightmares. The spell that currently isn't working.

"Sam. Sammy." Reaching over to his brother's thrashing body and wrapping his arms tightly around him, he pulls him back against his chest to keep him from hurting himself. "Sam. Wake up bro. You aren't there anymore. You're safe. We got you out. You're okay, Sam. You're okay, Sammy." He sets his head on his brothers, keeping his mouth close to his brother's ear as he murmurs to him.

He continues for what could have been an hour before Sam calms down enough to stop screaming and thrashing. He snaps awake with one last whimper, eyes snapping open and his whole body tensing. At the feel of the tight hold around him, he squeezes his eyes closed. He takes a shaky breath. "Dean?"

He winces at the sound of Sam's voice. The screaming really did a number on it. "Right here, Sam." He feels like he got a few bruises from Sam's thrashing, but that's not important.

Sam's whole body relaxes, seemingly collapsing back into Dean in relief. "Oh God."

Dean relaxes his hold, but doesn't move away other than to grip his brother's arm. "You're alright man. You're not there anymore."

"I actually wish the hallucinations were back instead of this," he breathes quietly.

Dean sighs. "That sucks."

Sam lets out a harsh chuckle. "They weren't as bad. It was a lesser evil I guess. Like Cas had taken away the wall, but my mind didn't know the memories could be retrieved yet."

"Then after the incident with Dick…" Dean trails off as Sam nods a little.

"I got hit hard enough and messed up enough that it all poured out." His hand comes up to pat Dean's hand. "Have to sleep with my older brother like I'm five again so he can make the nightmares go away."

"We've been over this, Sam. It's not your fault. And if this is all I have to do to keep you in one piece, if this is it, then it isn't a hardship at all. Besides, you're warm. Good use when it gets cold out."

Sam huffs out a laugh. He rolls onto his back when Dean finally loosens his hold, though he doesn't move very far. "Looks like we have to do it again."

Dean cringes. That's right. He didn't check it tonight. "Damn Sammy, I'm sorry."

Sam frowns, looking to Dean in the slight light let in from the moon through the window. "For what?"

"I didn't check it tonight. I knew it was fading. I should have checked it."

Sam rolls his eyes. "You're stupid."

Dean glares. "Well I'm sorry for wanting to keep this from happening," he spits.

"Dean," his voice is soft enough to get his brother's attention, "this is probably going to happen a lot before we find a way to make it stick. It won't be your fault and I won't ever blame you. So chill out and go back to sleep. We'll redo it in the morning."

Dean huffs. "Whatever. Bitch."

Sam smiles to himself, settling in. "Jerk."

The first thing Dean does in the morning is sharpen his knife. He wants this to be as painless for Sam as possible. Clean cut will make this easier and quicker. As soon as it's light enough, he drags Sam out the door of their small cabin.

Sam smirks. "We have all day, Dean. Mark won't make us do anything when we tell him what we're doing."

"Wanna get it done Sam. Just go. Shirt off."

Sam sighs, albeit affectionately. "Always trying to get me naked," he teases.

Dean snorts. "Oh you know me, Sammy." They go to a more grassy area behind their cabin, throwing a pillow down. "Get comfy. It's not gonna be quick."

"Relax Dean. I know what we're doing this time. Just do it." He lays down on his stomach, arms up around the pillow to hold it under his head. "Have at it."

Dean lays a paper next to Sam. The drawing of the sigil on his back, and the incantation he needs to say before finishing it. Taking out his knife, he takes a breath. Flashes of his own time in hell assault him when he grips the blade. Just like last time. With the intention to cut into someone, the memories surge forward.

He flinches when he feels a hand on his knee. He looks down to see Sam looking worriedly at him.

"It's alright Dean. It's just me."

He shakes his head with a disgusted snort. "That's what makes it worse."

The hand grips his knee for a second. "I need it Dean. You're doing it because it'll help me." He moves his arm back up and lays still. "I trust you. Just like last time."

With one last deep breath, Dean leans over his brother, placing his left hand on Sam's shoulder to keep steady. "Alright Sam. Here we go. Let me know-"

"If I need a break, I know." Sam turns his head to give him a crooked smile. "Honestly Dean. If you don't do it right now, I'm going to get someone else to."

Dean levels a glare. Nobody takes a knife to Sam. Except him of course. "Over my dead body," he growls. He slaps Sam's head before leaning down again. "Hold still."

Sam grins smugly to himself. As if he'd ever trust someone enough to do this besides Dean. Then he clenches his jaw as Dean starts.

The two brothers have always been close, but they haven't always trusted each other. Situations that have pulled them apart and put them back together again took a toll on their relationship a time or two. But right now, in this moment like the time before, it's almost impossible to be any closer.

Sam's eyes are closed. He's completely relaxed. Totally dependent on Dean to protect him if anything happens right now. And trusting him to not make a wrong move. The sigil is big in order to get the small details right with a blade. It's from the middle of one shoulder to the other, from the top vertebra at his neck to halfway down his back. One wrong move, a slip, and quite a few things could go wrong. Especially the fact that the sigil wouldn't work at all, not to mention pointless pain and blood. A needle to make a tattoo would be better. Smaller, though it still would probably have to be a little big, and permanent. But they haven't found the means to do that yet.

Dean is focused. His eyes are on his 'work', trusting Sam to keep still. Totally dependent on Sam to not move and make this easier for him and safer for his brother. He's also aware of how vulnerable Sam is right now. He's alert, listening for any sign of danger though he's focused on what he's doing. That's why twenty minutes in, he freezes. His hand grips the blade tighter as he tenses and turns to the footsteps approaching.

The man approaching freezes at the look of complete hostility on Dean's face. It's a warning. Dangerous. The man's eyes move from his face to the blade then, going tense at the sight of blood on the tip. "What's going on here?"

Sam's eyes are open, watching the situation. When he sees the nervousness of the man, he lifts his head to rest it on his arm, grimacing a little at the sting when his shoulders move. "It's alright." His voice is low, more rough than usual from the way he overexerted it last night from screaming. It's also the only time he's talked to anyone but Dean and Mark in the past half year.

The guy looks to him incredulously, shivering at the voice. He can't make eye contact, Sam's shuttered face making him almost as nervous as Dean's knife. Who are these people?

Dean finally gets himself calmed down enough to be at least a little civil to the man. Boy, really. Looks to be about in his younger twenties. He's got a little to learn yet. Like minding his own business. "It's not your business. Walk away." He looks down to Sam. "You doin' alright?"

Sam quirks a half smile. "Fine." He looks to the man. "Seriously. I'm fine."

Mark comes up behind him then, quirking an eyebrow at Dean before turning to the man next to him. "Drew. It's alright. These guys have their own agendas. Their own story. Leave them alone."

Drew, Dean and Sam gather, looks back to them. "Can I just ask why? Just to feel like I'm not leaving anything dangerous."

Dean chuckles, taking Mark's easiness of the situation to mean that he doesn't expect Drew to start trouble. "It's a spell. Keeps nightmares away."

Drew scowls. "Nightmares? You guys can't take a few nightmares?"

Dean's gaze gets cold. "You ever been to Hell, Drew? You ever been with the devil and an archangel while they tortured you?"

"Dean," Sam murmurs.

Drew's eyes get big. "God, I'm sorry. You're Sam and Dean." He looks to Mark. "Why didn't you tell anyone who they really are?"

Mark nods grimly. "This is why. They don't want recognition right now. They're still trying to get some crap together."

Drew looks to them. "Sorry guys. It was just something I'm not used to seeing."

Sam looks at him and gives him a small, wry grin that gives him goose bumps. "When it comes to me and Dean, it's best if everyone just butts out."

Dean looks down at him, letting himself be a little proud of how Sam is talking to someone other than himself. "Lay down and lay still before you mess up my work."

Sam sighs, laying back down. "Jerk. Was trying to keep you from killing the poor kid."

Dean taps his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah I hear ya, bitch." He gets back to work, falling back into his rhythm without even a second glance to Drew and Mark. He listens though as Mark leads the boy away.

"Those two have their own beat they follow when they're not fitting in to ours. They're not like anything any of us will understand. Both went to Hell, both came back different. They also have a relationship no one will ever be able to understand either. Something I haven't even come to grasp. And I saw some things on our way here."

Drew cuts in. "I've heard of the way they are together. Hunts they've taken down faster than any other pair of hunters. The things they've gotten through with each other. People say they're soul mates even though they're brothers and…" his voice gets softer and softer as they walk away until they're gone.

Dean works. Doesn't matter what people say about them. They're just… them. SamandDean. An explanation just isn't needed. He keeps working. An hour goes by. "You doin' okay still?"

"Perfect," Sam grits out. Dean's working over his shoulder blades now. "Just keep going. I just want it all done today."

Dean nods to himself, taking off his shirt before going back to where he left off. He uses it to dab at the blood on Sam's back, keeping the old scar clear for him to trace and only use the paper on the ground as a reference. "Sorry," he murmurs when Sam hisses as he goes over one of the bones in his back. He tries to do that quickly.

Another hour goes by. "Almost done Sammy. You want a break?"

Sam breathes in relief as he gets a second without pain. "How much more?"

"Just have from under your left shoulder almost to your back bone."

Sam sighs. "Just give me a few."

Dean sits next to him, keeping his other hand on Sam's shoulder. He looks over the carnage he's created on his brother's back. "Damn. Why don't you let me use the painkillers?"

"I can get through it without them, Dean. This is nothing compared to other stuff." He sounds tired, almost out of breath.

"You sound beat, man. This is taking a lot out of you. You haven't even made a noise this time." He eyes the sweat running down his brother's neck and back. It's only about sixty degrees out. It's all from the stress of staying still and keeping quiet.

"I can take it more this time. I know the feeling. I can almost ignore it."

"I call bull."

Sam snorts, grimacing just a little with the stinging in his back when his ribs expand. "Okay. Can't ignore it. But it just gets annoying after a while of being a constant."

Dean just shakes his head.

"Finish it," Sam murmurs a few minutes later.

Dean turns to him and starts without question. Better to just get it over with. When he gets to the last bit, he starts to mutter the incantation, saying it as many times as it takes to finish to make sure he gets it all in before he makes the finishing cut. He goes through it two times before he makes the last cut into his brother's back.

Sam makes a pained noise when the sigil is finished, hands gripping the pillow tightly as he rides out the completion of the spell as it makes the whole thing burn for a few seconds. Then he lets out a long breath, a groan sounding the whole way through it. "Ouch."

Dean grips his arm with one hand, dapping away the rest of the blood with the other. "You alright?" He takes the bandages and disinfectant from his pockets.

"As good as I can be." His voice is hoarse rather than the grit Dean's come to expect. "I hope it stays this time. Going over a scar and all that. It should stay."

"I hope so too, Sammy," Dean answers, starting on the cleaning process.

Sam hisses and grunts as Dean covers his cuts with the disinfectant. He stands up slowly with Dean's help and holds his arms out as Dean wraps up his back. "Leave me room to breathe," he huffs when one time around feels tight around his chest.

Dean chuckles. "Sorry. Just don't want it to slip. Any of this gets infected and we're in trouble. It'll be really hard to clean it up."

"It'll be fine. You've practically drowned me in that disinfectant."

"Damn straight."

When it's finally wrapped up, Sam lets Dean help him into his t-shirt. He hisses little at the movement of his shoulders.

"Let me know if you ever decide to need the pills, alright?"

Sam nods, looking over Dean's shoulder.

Dean turns to see Rick walking over. A man Mark had him meet the night before just out of principle. Marks second hand man. "Hey, Rick."

Rick nods, motioning to the blade in Dean's hand. "Everything alright?"

Dean chuckles. "Fine. What's up?"

Rick eyes Sam, standing a little stiff and turned away.

Dean recognizes his nervousness and has to keep from smirking. It's big brother pride that fills him when he sees that Sam can make people that nervous just by being in the same vicinity. He could too if he wanted. But one of them has to be a little nice to keep up with what's going on around here. If everyone was too afraid to approach them, they'd miss things.

"Steel said you told Mark you wanted to take a walk around the fence. See the perimeter. He said now would be fine."

Dean nods, looking over his shoulder to Sam.

Rick watches as Dean only gives him a look. Sam seems to understand perfectly, nodding and murmuring something so low, Rick only catches the tone, not the words. The sound makes him shudder. He looks away when Sam's eyes look to him.

"Thanks Rick." Dean wipes his knife off, turning away. "Tell Steel we'll be there in a bit." He pats Sam's chest as he walks up to him before they both head into the cabin.

Rick shakes his head at the two. Colt and Campbell are the two most intriguing people in the world. Colt is so cold, so hostile and Campbell is so much more open it's amazing they stick together. What he just witnessed though, the communication in their eyes and touch, it's obvious they've been around each other a long time. He just doesn't understand. He can't understand what it is about them that just screams 'inseparable' in the midst of their (mostly Colt's) war-weary faces that say 'detached'.

He turns and heads back to the post to tell Steel they're coming. He could get a headache trying to read into the two.