Chapter Seven
Adam woke in the middle of the night to the sound of talking. It took him a few seconds to realize it was Dean, and that he was talking to Sam.
"...and when you're all right again we can take a holiday, ya know? Go to someplace nice, maybe California. It'll be nice for Small Fry too. We can hang out, maybe go to Disneyland or whatever..."
Adam's throat lodged itself in his heart at the sound of all the promises. Would Dean ever get to carry them out? He hoped so.
He checked the luminous hands on his watch. It was 2:10 AM. From the looks of it Dean hadn't fallen asleep at all.
It was only out of sympathy (and upon seeing Adam's tear-streaked face and red eyes) that the hospital staff had allowed the brothers to remain with Sam overnight, and had even provided pillows and blankets, which Dean had arranged to form a makeshift bed. Adam had fallen asleep as soon as he'd hit the floor, but Dean sat on Sam's bed and talked to him, holding his hand carefully to avoid interfering with the IV line.
"...or you know, I hear there's some literary festival going on, we could go there. You'd like that, wouldn't you, a festival for you to celebrate your geekiness at... do you think they'll have a few classic skin mags there, Small Fry and I could enjoy those..."
Adam almost smiled. Dean still didn't know he was awake and listening, and Adam made no effort to let Dean know. It was a personal moment with Sam that he was intruding on, and he didn't want to ruin it for Dean.
"...come on, Sam, enough is enough. You've gotta be all right, you know. Small Fry is devastated. Turns out he's even girlier than you are, been cryin' on and off... even you don't cry that much."
Adam stifled an indignant "hmph" into his pillow. Ass, he thought, but without any real venom.
"He's a good kid, though, ya know? I'd figured he might be trouble a little, didn't exactly get along well with us last time, and that was before the Cage... but he's actually been pretty decent about this. Good kid," Dean said again, and this time, Adam did smile.
Dean yawned audibly, and then said, "All right, Sam, I'm gettin' tired now. I'm gonna sleep for a bit, okay? Don't go anywhere. Good night." He smoothed Sam's hair away from his forehead and then got off the bed. A few seconds later Adam felt a slight tug on the blankets as Dean pulled them over himself.
"I know you're awake, Small Fry."
A small yelp escaped Adam before he could stop it, and Dean chuckled. "What's wrong, cat got your tongue?"
"Don't sneak up on me like that, you idiot," muttered Adam in reply. "It's not funny."
Immediately Dean sobered. "No, it's not," he agreed. "What's on your mind, kid?"
"I'm not a kid," mumbled Adam, hoping to stall a little. "I'm 23."
Dean chuckled again; he couldn't help it. "Sam's 30 and I still call him kiddo," he said. "Compared to that you're a toddler, Adam."
"You're such a mother-hen," Adam observed. "Are you quite sure you don't have a pair of ovaries?"
Dean kicked him under the covers. "Yeah, I'm sure. Are you sure you haven't got a pair?"
It was Adam's turn to kick him. "I'm sure," he hissed.
"Good. Now tell me – what's on your mind?"
Adam sighed, knowing he couldn't stall any longer. "Sam," he said, and the name caught Dean off-guard, even though he'd been expecting it. "How can we help him? Other than someone selling their soul," he added.
"Cas will find something," Dean said quietly. "Sam will be fine."
"But at what cost?" wondered Adam. Dean did not answer.
After a few minutes Dean said, "Hey, Adam. What I said earlier. About what would happen if Sam didn't make it."
"Yeah?" said Adam cautiously.
"I was completely serious, you know."
Adam sighed again. "Yeah. I know."
"But don't think I'll be leaving you all alone," Dean said. "Remember we mentioned a couple of guys called Garth and Kevin?"
"Those people you were supposed to check up on?" asked Adam.
"Yeah. Them. I'm giving them a call in the morning, telling them I can't come, but I won't be telling them any of our problems, of course. If anything happens to me after Sam's gone, Adam, you're staying with them."
"But I don't even know them."
"They're nice people. Garth's a hunter, pretty good one for such a tiny guy. Kevin... well, he's just a kid, around 18, I think. He's a prophet."
"A prophet?" Adam sounded interested.
"Yeah. Not in the conventional sense, though – it means he can read the Word of God. He's working on it as we speak. He translates the half of the Demon Tablet that we've got, and then he sends on the info to us."
"So he tells you about these trials?"
"Yeah. My point is, you'll like them. Maybe better than us. God knows you'll be safer with them. See, after the Gates of Hell are closed Garth won't have to work many jobs any longer, and there won't be much for Kevin to do. Maybe the three of you can hang out."
Adam knew Dean was trying to paint a pleasant picture, but it angered him all the same. "No, Dean. I don't want them. I want you and Sam." He sounded and felt like a petulant child.
Dean sighed, the sound rough and weathered. "I know," he said softly. "I want it to be that way too. But there's very less chances of that happening."
"No," denied Adam. "We'll figure out something. We have to."
Blind faith. That's all it was that kept Adam going, Dean knew. The problem was, blind faith on its own did not generally accomplish anything, or else Sammy would probably been Santa's apprentice at age six, like he'd always wanted and hoped.
Dean almost snorted. Santa's apprentice. He was sure to be the largest one there. A 6'4" Sasquatch, sorting toys and putting them into bags... it would be hilarious if it wasn't so painful to think about Sam.
"Good night, Dean," Adam said, from somewhere to Dean's left.
"Good night, Adam," replied Dean, and closed his eyes. He fell asleep almost at once, knife securely under his pillow, the stress of the last couple of days catching up with him.
Adam did not, however. He waited until he was sure Dean was dead to the world, and then whispered, "Is anyone there?"
He felt silly, whispering to himself, but he was desperate and this was more of grasping at straws than anything solid. "Michael? Can you hear me?" At the Archangel's name he felt the similar wave of loathing wash over him, but he ignored it. "I need help, Michael."
He waited, but he knew there would be no response. Slightly discouraged, he tried again. "Sam's sick. He might not wake up. There's nothing we know that can fix this. Cas can't help, even if he's an angel. But you're an Archangel. There must be something you can do. Please, Michael. You owe me. I let you possess me. I suffered for centuries in the Cage because of you. You always let Lucifer do whatever he wanted to Sam, and then to me. This is the least you can do for us now. Please, Michael. You're supposed to be one of the good guys."
Of course, there was still no response, and even though Adam had been expecting this he was still disappointed. "Yeah, screw you too," he muttered angrily. Sighing, he curled to his side and closed his eyes, drifting off.
It was daylight when he woke to the babble of voices. He opened his eyes to see Dean's shoes immediately in his line of vision, along with two other pairs of feet. Sitting up, he asked, "What's going on?"
"We've got a visitor." Dean's tone was terse.
Adam looked up to see a stranger standing there, while the third man was Castiel. This new person was of average height and build, dark-skinned and black-haired. He looked middle-aged and had kind features, but there was a hardness to his expression that Adam could only put down to him not being human.
He got to his feet, yawned and stretched, and then asked, "Who are you?"
"My name is Jedediah," responded the man. "You're Adam."
Adam nodded warily, shifting so that he was closer to Dean. Dean moved slightly in front of his youngest brother, his stance protective and his expression fierce, and Adam noticed the angel blade he held in his right hand. "Jedediah here claims he's an angel," he informed Adam. "Said he's been sent to help Sam."
"He's not lying about the angel part," Castiel said, eyeing Jedediah cautiously. "But I am not sure about the 'help' part."
"Who sent you?" asked Adam, wondering if his prayers had been answered.
"Michael," answered Jedediah, his expression calm and serene. Adam felt the floor drop from under his feet, his relief was that great.
"Michael?" repeated Dean, sounding suspicious. "As in, the Archangel Michael?"
Jedediah nodded. He looked slightly bored.
"Why would he want to help Sam?" questioned Castiel.
"He prefers not to state why," Jedediah told them haughtily. Dean shifted so that the angel blade was in plain view.
"You might want to be a bit more specific here," he growled. "We won't hesitate to gank you."
"Human, please," said Jedediah contemptuously. "I am much stronger than you think. A simple snap of my fingers can reduce you to ashes. You are nothing but puny insects."
Dean rolled his eyes, well-accustomed to this speech, but he lowered the blade a little. "All right. What are your terms?"
"Terms?" questioned Jedediah.
"He means, what do you want in return," clarified Castiel.
"That you close the Gates of Hell successfully," Jedediah said.
"We're going to do that anyway," began Dean, but was cut off.
"After freeing Michael," finished Jedediah.
Dean and Castiel glanced at each other. "He may try to start the Apocalypse again," pointed out Cas.
"He will not," Jedediah informed them. "He knows better. He simply wants to return to Heaven."
"Okay, that sounds reasonable," said Dean, "but why would he send you here now?"
"He was... called upon," Jedediah said, his lips curling. He smiled frighteningly in Adam's direction, and both Cas and Dean turned to look at him.
"What does he mean?" asked Dean.
Adam looked down at his feet. "I kinda prayed last night," he muttered, "after you'd fallen asleep."
"To Michael?" Castiel sounded surprised.
Adam nodded. "I told him he owed me and Sam. He'd let us get hurt while doing nothing to stop it, so this was the least he could do for us now."
"And he agreed?" Dean sounded extra suspicious.
"Apparently," Adam said, cocking his head towards Jedediah, who was watching with disinterest.
"But how do we know you can heal him?" questioned Castiel. "I could not."
"You are an ordinary angel, Castiel, cut off from Heaven," Jedediah told him, superiority coloring his voice. "I am one of Michael's own, and I have greater power than you."
"If he's in the Cage how did he send you?" inquired Dean.
"He is an Archangel," Jedediah reminded them. "Such boundaries cannot stop him from communicating with us."
"Then how come you haven't busted him out yet?" asked Dean.
"We cannot, as angels," Jedediah said. "In Hell our powers are limited. We can only survive for so long in that damned realm. Michael is an Archangel and he is in the Cage, not in Hell itself, and so he has survived for so long. A battalion of less gifted angels would not last three hours. But," he added, his lip curling again, "humans can."
"All right, how do we get him out?" asked Dean. He seemed to be seriously considering the deal.
"There is a ritual," Jedediah said. "It is difficult and may cost you, but is a better alternative to walking into Hell. It must be done at the right time, and Michael will be let out."
"Excuse us for a moment," said Castiel suddenly, and pulled Adam and Dean away. "Dean," he said, "this is most suspicious."
"But it sounds reasonable," answered Dean. "He fixes Sam, we get Michael out and shut Hell up for good. Sounds good enough."
"But what if there is an ulterior motive?" worried Castiel. "What if we are being double-crossed?"
"I don't think we are," Adam spoke up. "Michael may be a douchebag, and he may not care two hoots about us, but he won't go back on a promise, and he won't renege on a deal."
"How would you know?" asked Dean.
Adam smiled bitterly. "480 years is enough time to get to know someone, don't you think?"
"So do we agree?" inquired Castiel.
"I say we do," Dean said.
"I second that," said Adam.
Both of them looked at Castiel, who sighed. "All right. But be careful."
The broke apart, and took back their previous positions. "We agree," Dean told Jedediah. "Provided Michael does not go back on his deal."
"He will not," Jedediah said.
"We have a couple of conditions as well, though," Dean told him.
"You are in no position to bargain," Jedediah reminded him, gesturing towards Sam's still form.
"Okay," shrugged Dean. "Michael can stay down there with his favorite brother, and we can quit doing the trials. I can just kill Castiel right now, and then Adam and I can off ourselves. Everybody loses."
Jedediah grimaced in distaste. "All right, Winchester. State your terms."
"First," said Dean with a satisfied smirk, counting off his fingers, "only Michael. Lucifer stays down there, and Michael does not try to spring him. He will not try to start the Apocalypse again."
"Agreed."
"Secondly, he leaves us alone after this."
"Agreed, provided you do the same."
"Oh we will, don't worry. Third, he never steps down on Earth again."
"And what will stop him, once he's out?" challenged Jedediah.
Dean smirked. "We will. And you know we can."
Yes, Jedediah knew. These were Winchesters he was dealing with – Earth and Hell were not the only realms where these boys were feared.
So he said, somewhat grudgingly, "Agreed."
"Fourth, he fixes Adam's mind."
"He cannot do that," Jedediah said. "He can only fix either Sam, or Adam. Take your pick."
"Sam," said Adam. "Pick Sam."
Dean nodded. "Sam it is, then. Are we clear?"
Jedediah nodded. "I have instructions," he told the trio. "I am to wait here while you go perform the ritual to free Michael. And when Michael is free, only then will he send the message to heal Sam."
Castiel knew, even if Dean did not, that this was the most reasonable Michael was going to get, and so he said before Dean or Adam could, "Agreed. What is the ritual?"
"I'm still wondering if it's okay to trust that angel dude," Dean said, turning the music down.
"We have a deal, Dean," Castiel reminded him.
"Yeah, I doubt he'd renege on it," said Adam.
Three days later, they were in the Impala, which was parked in front of an old abandoned factory. This was where Jedediah the angel had told them to carry out the ritual.
"So, this ritual thing we're doing," said Adam, squinting down at the sheet of paper in his hand. "It's supposed to release Michael from Hell, right?"
"Yes," said Castiel.
"Well, then how do we know he'll go straight on to Heaven? Does anything ensure that?" asked Adam.
Dean's angel blade glinted in the moonlight. "No, but like you said, we had a deal. And I doubt he'll stay, he doesn't have a vessel down here and if he stayed in his original form he'd blind us all."
"I suppose we'll have to settle with that," said Adam.
"We have a deal," Cas said again. "If you are having doubts or second thoughts we can call Jedediah and explain we cannot do it."
"No," said both Dean and Adam at once. "We're doing this for Sam," Dean reminded them.
"All right, then," said Castiel. "Let's get this over with, without complaining," he added, and the Winchester boys looked slightly abashed.
Dean killed the engine and they got out of the car, walking towards the factory in silence. It was Dean who picked the lock, and when they were inside they began looking around. It was a large square room, with gray walls and two inches of dust on every surface. Typical.
"Oh I hate these places," muttered Dean to himself. He set down his duffel on the large table in the center and pulled out a can of spray paint. "All right, I'm making this place demon-proof and every-other-thing-proof... except for angels. Cas, you sure none of your side is going to butt in at the last moment?"
"I am sure," Castiel said. "They do not know of our agreement, and Jedediah has told no one. It is not in his interests to do so."
"And Crowley?" asked Adam.
Dean gestured towards the Devil's Traps and other assortment of signs and sigils he'd just finished painting. "He can't get in here."
"All right then," said Adam, sounding determined, "let's do this."
Castiel opened his bag and began getting what they needed out. That also included something Jedediah hadn't mentioned – holy oil. He worked quietly, mixing things, and then finally said, "Okay, it's done, but we need blood."
"Whose blood?" asked Dean.
"All of ours," Castiel said. "It requires the blood of a resident of Heaven, a resident of Hell, and a resident of Earth."
"Well, that's convenient," muttered Adam. "Funny how the ritual matches us perfectly. Are you sure it's legit?"
"I'm sure," said Castiel. "I have checked for it far and wide, and every reliable source I know says it is... 'legit'."
They gave their blood in silence, and then Dean said, "What did you think he meant, when he said it might cost us?"
"I don't know," said Adam uneasily. "That part's been bothering me since he said it."
"You don't think he was bluffing?" wondered Dean.
"He was not," said Castiel. He was looking down at his arm where he'd cut it. "I will lose my powers."
"What?" said Dean. "You'll what?"
"You heard me, Dean." Castiel's expression was one of resignation.
"Why didn't you tell us this before?" demanded Dean.
"I didn't know," Castiel said, and it took one look at his face to know he was telling the truth. "I only found out, when I tried to heal my arm and it did not work."
"Dammit, Castiel," began Dean.
"No, Dean, I will not call it off," Castiel said, raising his eyes to meet Dean's. "I have agreed to do this, and now I know the cost to myself, and I am still in agreement. I am doing this for Sam."
"I wasn't going to ask you to call it off," Dean said. "Like you said, this is for Sam. But there must be something to get your powers back."
Castiel looked a little sad. "I don't know. We'll worry about it later. Let's finish this ritual, shall we?"
"That's a huge sacrifice you're making," Adam said to Castiel.
"Not really, if you think about it," Cas answered. "I have let down Sam in the past. And I have let down both of them now. I need to make up for it."
They were talking outside of earshot of Dean, who was busy checking over the Devil's Traps and sigils one last time.
"So you're going to lose, like, all your powers?" asked Adam.
"Not all of them, no," Cas said. "Most of them. I will still be able to transport myself and other small things like that, but I will no longer be able to communicate with Heaven. Which is not such a great loss, considering I am on the run from them. It might even be an advantage, since now they cannot find me either."
"I'm sorry, you know," Adam said. "Not for saving Sam, I could never be sorry for that, but for your sacrifice."
"It's okay, Adam," Castiel told him, smiling slightly. "I am still perfectly willing to do it, despite the loss to myself. Do not worry about it."
Adam nodded, just as Dean came up to them. "Everything's in order," he reported. "Let's finish this."
Castiel made a ring of holy oil on the floor where Michael was supposed to appear, and then said, "Do it, Dean." Dean added the final ingredient to the mixture they had in a bowl.
"You might want to prepare yourself," Castiel warned Adam. "This is not usually pleasant."
Adam nodded, just as everything in the room began shaking and a ringing noise began. Adam and Dean closed their eyes and covered their ears, but Castiel waited and watched. Just when it felt like a full-blown earthquake in there, the shaking stopped and it was quiet again.
"Do not open your eyes," Castiel warned them. "We do not need more blind people."
"Is he here?" asked Adam.
Castiel nodded. "He is in the ring of holy fire. And not very happy about it."
"You reneged on the deal!" Michael's voice caused Adam to stiffen, remembering it from the Cage. It sounded much more inhuman in his true form... but also much more powerful. And in that instant Adam realized just exactly what they were dealing with.
"Who'd have thought I'd be messing with Archangels one day..." he muttered under his breath.
"What was that, Small Fry?"
"Nothing."
"We did not renege on the deal," Castiel was explaining. "We just want to ask you a few questions, and then you can leave."
"What do you want?" asked Michael, sounding irritated.
"Firstly, we want your confirmation that you will carry out your end of the deal," Castiel said.
"You know that I will, Castiel. I made a promise."
"Secondly, that you will not start the Apocalypse again."
"I know better than that, Castiel. I do not want to spend another half a millenium stuck with my annoying brother. Besides, I have had enough of these Winchesters to last me forever."
Dean grinned at that, though no one saw. So even Michael knew that if he started the Apocalypse again the Winchesters would be after him.
"Thirdly, you will go straight to Heaven, and will not remain on Earth."
"I have nothing to do here on Earth. I will not stay."
"And finally, Sam will be good as new. No side-effects. No hidden illnesses."
"Agreed."
"Why are you helping us?" Adam suddenly asked, raising his voice to make sure Michael heard. "In the Cage you hardly cared."
There was a pause as Michael considered. "I wish I had," he finally said. "It was not right of me."
"I guess that's as close to an apology as you're going to get," Dean said.
"Hello, Dean."
"Screw you, Michael."
"Such attitude... I am helping your brother."
"Yeah, thanks a lot."
"Be nice," Adam hissed to Dean. "He might decide not to help Sam."
"Then he can stay in that ring forever," decided Dean.
"They will never get along," observed Castiel, though he sounded amused.
"Damn right," replied Dean.
"Is there anything else?" inquired Michael, sounding annoyed. "I want to be on my way."
"You don't get to leave until you fix Sam," Dean told him.
"I will get the message to Jedediah now," Michael answered. There was a pause, and then he said, "It is done."
"Is Sam okay now?" asked Adam.
"Your brother is all right," confirmed Michael. "Can I go now?" And in that moment the great Archangel sounded like a whiny child.
Castiel smiled. "Yes, you may."
"Thank you," Adam added softly.
"Let me tell you what my thanks is," Michael began, and Dean and Castiel recognized the beginnings of a rant. "My thanks is that I never have to set sight on any of you four ever again. If I never meet you again it will be too soon. I have tired of you Winchesters – all three of you. Because of you I spent half a millennium with that little maggot I once raised as my brother, and do you know how irritating he is?"
"Yeah all right, quit your whining," said Dean, though he was grinning again. This was absolutely precious. "Castiel, let him go, I can't wait to be rid of him either."
Castiel poured water over one side of the ring, and in a flash Michael was gone.
Adam and Dean finally opened their eyes. "Is it done?" asked Adam.
Dean was already at the door. "Yes. Let's go."
They reached the hospital in record time, and then, without a word to the staff, began sprinting up the hallways. People stopped in their tracks to make way for the two crazy-looking brothers and their somewhat calmer angel trailing behind muttering about "Crazy boys", because Dean and Adam certainly were not hesitating to knock people out of their way.
Dean threw open the door to Ward 406, skidding to a halt. "Sam!" he exclaimed, but stopped short.
There was no change. Sam was still lying there, unmoving and lifeless. Jedediah and Michael had lied.
No. His blood ran cold with grief and fury.
Besides him, Adam came to a halt as well, and then noticed Sam. "This can't be," he muttered, reeling. His brother still wasn't back.
"What is it?" asked Castiel, arriving just then and noticing the expression on the brothers' faces. They looked like they'd been struck by lightning.
"Nothing's changed," Dean whispered, his voice hoarse. "They lied to us."
"They can't have," Castiel argued, though he could not doubt the sinking feeling in his chest when he looked at Sam.
"They have," answered Adam, his voice already thick with tears.
Dean turned to walk out, not looking either his brother or his friend in the eyes. "I'll... I'll be back in a bit," he told them.
"Where – where you goin'?"
Dean turned around so fast he almost got dizzy. It wasn't Adam or Castiel who'd asked – Sam was blinking up at all of them, looking confused.
Dean shoved Adam and Castiel – who both now looked dumbfounded – out of the way and strode over to Sam, pulling him in a bonecrushing hug. "Sam, you're all right," he whispered into Sam's hair. "You're fine."
Sam hugged Dean back. "Yeah," he whispered back. "Thank you."
Dean held on for a second longer, before Adam pulled him away and pounced on Sam.
"What the – Adam!"
"I'm so glad you're okay!" Adam said tearfully.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Girl," he accused, but he was crying too. Only in a much more manly way, thank you very much, for Dean Winchester did not sob. Which Adam was doing quite a lot right now.
Castiel was smiling, observing the scene. "Welcome back, Sam."
Sam smiled back over Adam's head. "Thank you, Castiel. For everything."
The angel's answer was another smile, one that reached his blue eyes. "You're my friend, Sam."
"God, you're all such girls!" complained Dean. "Adam, get off Sam right now." Now that Sam was alive and safe, Dean's previous jealousy (concern not jealousy concern not jealousy it's frigging concern) was back in full force.
Adam released his brother, wiping his tears on his sleeve. Sam smiled at him before asking, "How did you do it? I remember thinking this was it, this was the end for me. How'd you guys manage?"
"You're never going to believe it," Dean told Sam, grinning, "but we made a deal with Michael."
Sam started, blinking at the three of them. "Michael? The Archangel Michael?"
Castiel nodded. "In return for his release from the Cage."
Sam's mouth dropped open. "Are you sure he won't–"
"Don't worry about it," interrupted Dean. "We've got all bases covered, and we threatened to keep him stuck in a ring of holy fire if he didn't agree."
Sam nodded, closing his mouth, but he still looked bewildered. "Okay," he said, wondering if they were bluffing.
"We are not," Castiel said, interpreting Sam's expression correctly.
"Yeah, Cas lost all communication with Heaven for it," Adam told Sam.
"Cas!" Sam said. "You didn't have to–"
"I was willing to," Castiel told him. "It is better this way – much harder for them to find me. But I cannot heal people anymore."
"Which kinda sucks, but we can do without it," decided Dean. "So Cas, you staying with us now?" he asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. Sam and Adam also looked like they wanted him to stay.
"I cannot," Cas informed them regretfully. "I have things that need to be done, and I must be on my way."
"Is it something to do with the Angel Tablet?" asked Dean, but Cas only answered with a small smile at the three brothers, before vanishing in a flurry of wings.
"Not one for conversation, is he?" asked Adam, staring at the spot where the angel had vanished.
Dean didn't answer; and when Adam turned around he saw why. Dean was back in Mother-Hen Mode, brushing Sam's hair off his forehead and checking him over, making sure he was completely in order. "How many fingers?" he asked, holding up three.
"I know you're holding up three," Sam answered, looking a little exasperated.
"Yes, but how many do you see?"
"Three."
"Good," said Dean, sounding relieved.
"Okay, now that I'm perfectly okay," Sam began, "can we get out of here? You can tell me about Michael on the way back to the Batcave."
"Yeah, okay," agreed Dean, already sick of hospitals. "Let's go."
"Do we have a case or anything, where do we head next?" Sam asked, as Dean and Adam smuggled him outside to the Impala.
"We're heading over to California," Dean told Sam. "I'm taking you two to Disneyland."
"Disneyland?" Sam looked confused. "Why?"
Dean didn't answer, just shared a grin with Adam. Sam bitchfaced both of them – God, how great it was to see that face again! – but smiled as well.
Sam was okay, and while their situation was still not resolved... they'd figure it out.
Except–
"Sam, why didn't you tell me you'd lost weight?" Dean asked abruptly, cutting Def Leppard off halfway through Bringin' On the Heartbreak. "I thought we'd agreed on being open, Sam."
Sam looked surprised. "I've... lost weight?"
Dean glared at him. "Sammy, you think playing dumb is going to help?"
"But I'm not," Sam insisted. "I've lost weight? How much?"
"Oh, just around 20 or 25 pounds, or so," said Dean in a mock-casual tone. "How could you not tell me, Sam?"
"That much?" Sam's eyes were wide. "I didn't notice, Dean! I swear, I had no idea! Did I look any different to you?"
"Well... no," admitted Dean. "Though that's because I didn't look too carefully. I figured you'd tell me if there was something wrong."
"But I didn't know!" Sam insisted. "I swear, Dean, I'd have told you."
Dean sighed. The kid looked so stricken, he had to be telling the truth. "All right, Sammy. I believe you. But we've got to do something about the weight loss."
"Maybe Michael fixed it?" suggested Adam from the backseat.
"I don't know," Dean said. "Maybe."
"We can check, once we get back to the Batcave," said Sam.
"Okay, you do that," Dean said. "And right after dinner, we're packing. We leave for California tomorrow."
"That's great and all," began Sam, "but why are we going? Case?"
"Nope," answered Dean. "We're taking a break, kiddo."
"A break? Dean, we've got two trials left, we can't just–" Sam looked outraged by the idea.
"Oh shut up," said Adam, kicking Sam's seat from behind. "Just loosen up, will ya?"
Sam glared at Adam, then at Dean, and then looked as if he was seriously considering the idea. Then he smiled a little, trying to hide it but failing. "Okay."
Dean clapped him on the shoulder. "That's my boy," he said happily.
"But really, why are we going?" Sam asked, flapping Dean's hand away.
Dean smiled out the windshield. "Because I made a few promises. Let's leave it at that."
And before either Sam or Adam could say anything, he turned the music up and Def Leppard continued rocking throughout the car for the rest of the short journey back to the Batcave.
So a reviewer of mine, AlexaSummer, guessed a bit of my plot for this chapter... so kudos to her for that :D smart peasant ^_^ here's an extra cow for you :D
Also... I have a problem, you guys. His name is Jake Motherfreaking Abel.
I cannot get him out of my head. I DO NOT KNOW THE EXACT MOMENT HE TOOK OVER MY LIFE, OKAY. NOW HE'S EVERYWHERE. I read The Host, I look it up - BAM. Jake Abel in the movie. My best friend gets me to read Percy Jackson - BAM. Jake Abel in the movie. THIS IS FATED, PEASANTS.
Also, SCHOOL -_- starts next week, like I've constantly been reminding you peasants, and I don't see why I should have to go, seeing as I'm Czar and all, but my dad the great Czar of Mars insists I must. Well actually, he's indifferent - it's my mom, the great Czarina of Mars, who insists. And I love her too much to say no.
Well, my point is, updates might be slower from next week onward - this is my last update before school (that vile institution of... vileness) starts.
(I still think I'd be better off as a hunter. The epic madinalakesavedmylife has agreed to by my partner, and I'm sure xxDodo and agent iz hyper would agree to come along.)
Also, the aforementioned epic person madinalakesavedmylife has also conferred upon me the title of "Czar Remy The Supreme Awesomesauce". She has also now been promoted from lowly peasant to Prime Minister.
I've got a couple of new readers as well, so welcome, peasants. I've been told I enjoy brutally murdering people's feels, so don't say I didn't warn you. Though this was a relatively happier chapter.
I've got bonus points for anyone who can guess another issue that will soon be coming up... which has nothing to do with the boys. That lucky peasant shall get a brand-new Stonesung laptop.
Today's question: Do you listen to classic rock? Favorite bands/songs?
In my case, I definitely do listen to it, and I love it. It's much better than most contemporary rock, and it's so uplifting, you just wanna tap your feet to that tune and burst out singing and rockin' 'n' rollin'. And that's the life, peasants. Long live rock 'n' roll, I say :D
My favorite classic rock bands are Metallica, AC/DC and Led Zeppelin. Favorite songs are Nothing Else Matters (Metallica), Back in Black (AC/DC), Kashmir (Led Zeppelin - if you like classic rock and haven't heard this song, you need to reassess your priorities in life), Seek & Destroy and The Call of Ktulu (both Metallica), Fire of Unknown Origin (Blue Oyster Cult) and well, I could go on, but I don't want to bore y'all peasants. Though I could if I wanted, I'm Czar and you have to listen to me, capiche?
Also - Jedediah's name. I picked it at random, then decided to look it up. In case you're curious, here's what Wikipedia tells me:
"The name Jedediah comes from Yedidya, a Hebrew name meaning 'Friend of God' or 'beloved of God'."
Peasants that review get Nutella. I hear it does wonderful things for the soul. And the feels.
-Peace x