Surviving Is Just Step One
Author: Cheryl W.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.
Summary: By the time Sam figures out that trekking through a forest, looking for a Wendigo, is the last place on God's green earth Dean wants to be, it's too late to turn back. No Slash.
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay! I just wasn't pleased with the chapter I wrote and ended up doing an overhaul of it and breaking it down into smaller sections. Hope this part is enough to keep you hanging on for the final chapters of this story. Also, there be caterpillars ahead!
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Chapter 15: Ways To Stay Alive
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Rule # 15: There are no good fates here, but there are worse ways to stay alive.
SNSNSNSN ~ Purgatory ~ SNSNSNSN
He was panicking, Dean knew that. And Winchesters did NOT panic. (Or, at least, they never admitted to panicking.) And screaming in his head for Sam, that was panicking on a grand scale.
'Stop being a girl! Get your crap together!' he commanded of himself but shutting out the agony of transformation, that was the easy part. Ignoring the feel of each and every caterpillar as it claimed him as its home base, that gave a whole new twisted meaning to 'making your skin crawl.' Worse still, there wasn't a thing he could do about it, couldn't even blink when the first worm brushed by his eyelash, slithered by his nose. Couldn't muscle his way out of this, couldn't think his way out, couldn't scream his way out. That left….nothing, nada, him sporting wings and an antennae.
And even if Cas and Benny found him soon, it might be only in time to kill him to save him. Course that was if his traveling buddies even bothered to show up.
'Where are they?! Off making friggin' friendship bracelets for each other?!' he bitterly snarled to himself, because he had noticed the decreasing hostility between the angel and the vampire. And that should be the good news, he knew that, and it was stupid that he sort of missed being their referee. But it didn't take a genius to know why, because he had been there before. Played that role before, between Sam and his Dad, and as horrible as watching them fight had been, it seemed like the only time they noticed him was when he stepped in to break them up.
'Great, you're going to be a butterfly with self-image issues,' Dean groused before his insides contorted again and the newest wave of agony made thinking impossible.
SNSNSNSN~ Purgatory ~ SNSNSNSN
Having let Dean take the lead in their little entourage, Cas purposely dropped back to pace Benny. When the vampire instantly shot him a wary glance, he knew that he had not yet mastered the art of subtlety. Fighting down the human trait of sighing, he steadily met Benny's gaze, noted that there was a marginal decrease in the vampire's usual animosity. Had been ever since the Leviathan attack, since Benny started to understand that not all monsters were created equal, not even in Purgatory, that what he had done, leaving Dean, it hadn't been about not caring about Dean…but the opposite: that he cared too much.
However, right then, Cas would have welcomed Benny's hostility, for the vampire's empathy only heaped more coals on his head for what he was about to confess, to request. Looking away from Benny to the bend in the trail ahead that Dean had disappeared around, he declared, "You are right."
Though Benny knew the angel had something up his wings, he still hadn't expected the out of the blue admission. It caused him to shoot a dubious look at Cas to confirm he had heard the angel right. Course that gesture turned out to be a wasted one, what with Cas avoiding his eye contact like he was Sodom and Gomorra. Too curious to give the angel the silent treatment, Benny drawled, "Not like I turn down compliments, but what exactly what was I right about?" When Cas' jaw clenched, gave a telltale sign of the angel's emotional distress, Benny nostalgically wished for the days when he thought Cas was a cowardly, heartless, blasphemous version of the holy angels his grandmother used to tell him about at bedtime.
Coming to a halt, Cas faced Benny, was still debating the merit of his decision to tell the vampire his plans even as he lowly announced, "It is not my intention to go through the portal."
Benny didn't even bother trying to pretend shock, instead shook his head in disgust. "Like I said, you haven't made that much of a secret."
Brow creased in puzzlement at Benny's reply, the angel began to question, "But Dean…."
"…Is too gong ho to get you …get us all out of here to see anything else. So what, you like it here, angel?" Benny derisively taunted, his anger building, not because he cared if the angel made Purgatory his final resting place but because Dean would care. Wouldn't take the news well that his angel buddy wasn't interested in making the journey topside with him.
"No," Cas sharply denied but couldn't hold the vampire's gaze. "But it is what I deserve," he morosely muttered under his breath.
Irritated that the angel was throwing himself a pity party, Benny grabbed onto the lapels of Cas' coat and spun the angel around to face him. "Nah, uh. You don't get to make this about you, about some punishment you think you deserve. Dean's busting his hump to get you to the portal…will throw your butt through it if he has to. What he deserves is to not have risked everything just so you could bail on him again."
"I'm not abandoning him!" Cas growled back even as he broke Benny's hold on him. But the vampire didn't let him retreat, instead stepped up be toe to toe with him.
"He fought his way across Purgatory to find your worthless angel hide, and I was never sure if he thought you needed rescuing or you would rescue him. Even when he knew there was a way out for him, he wouldn't stop until we found you. And now you want to stay here?!" Benny snarled, couldn't believe the angel was speaking up now, when the portal was so close, when Dean's hopes were so high for all of them to get out.
Cas' heart twisted at Benny's words, knew that Dean's nightly prayers to him had been both: both Dean pledging to save him and Dean appealing to Cas to save him. Because, somehow, Dean had believed that they were better, stronger together. Still did. But Cas didn't have that much faith in himself. Had told Dean he was cursed and that was even truer here. "This is best…." he started to explain but Benny cut him off.
"Don't tell me what's best!" Benny nearly shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Cas before he realized he was teetering on the edge of his control. Understanding that it had more to do with his conversation with Dean than the present one, he stepped back, put a safe distance between he and Cas. Running a hand over his face, he marshaled his emotions back into the crypt like a good vampire should.
Sensing something was troubling Benny, Cas did not defend himself but decided to wait the man out, knew humans had a habit of talking if you gave them the chance. Well, some did. Dean wasn't always so forthcoming with his thoughts and certainly not with his emotions. Only Sam really got him to open up.
Not for the first time, Cas wished Sam was there, not only because he could get through Dean's emotional wall but also because Sam had a better track record of keeping Dean safe than he did. And here, like in the real world, Dean was a magnet for trouble and needed all the protectors he could get. 'Exactly why I'm about to make my request of Benny, regardless of how poorly the vampire thinks of me and my decision.'
Since quietly waiting wasn't having the desired effect on the vampire, Cas stated, "You are upset."
Benny snorted and sent the angel a glare. "You have a flare for stating the obvious, I'll give you that." But the angel didn't make a comeback, leveled that annoyingly blank look at him that was like Chinese water torture. "If you're expecting me to spill my guts, make you my high school guidance counselor, you're gonna have a long wait."
Tilting his head in confusion, Cas asked, "Why would I be your high school…."
"If I didn't know better, I would say you're messing with me," Benny wryly interjected, turning his back on the angel, hoping to signify the end of the conversation. That's when it dawned on him that Dean wasn't in his line of sight, hadn't come stomping back yelling at them like a drill sergeant for not keeping up. Suddenly, cold fear gripped Benny. "Where's Dean?" he stridently demanded even as he chastised himself. 'Sure spend time chewing out Cas for thinking about abandoning Dean and you don't even know where Dean is right now?!'
Instantly Cas was by his shoulder, urgently scanning the same vacant landscape of Purgatory that he was. When they both came up empty, they shared a worried look before they took off at a run. Barreling around the bend in the path, Benny almost tripped over a moss covered downed limb, deftly dodging by it at the last second. But Cas' anxious cry of Dean's name had him sliding to a stop and turning around in time to see the angel drop to his knees by the downed limb and begin to frantically brush away the moss.
That's when Benny realized that the moss, it was moving. Were caterpillars, hundreds, thousands of them. And the downed limb…it was wearing boots…just like Dean's. He screamed at himself to move, to help Dean, but another detached part of him was too afraid to draw close and find out that his friend was gone.
"Dean!" Cas shouted his friend's name like a command, needed Dean to respond to him for his own peace of mind because through he knew his friend lived, there was no other signs of encouragement.
Cas' shout snapped Dean from the void he had almost succumbed to, told him that he wasn't alone anymore, gave him a kernel of hope that this wasn't his last hooray after all. But when hands touched his legs and started to shove the caterpillars off him, his gratitude dipped. 'Face, Cas! Forget my legs! Get them off my friggin' face!'
Then, like an answer to prayer, a hand appeared in his limited vision for a moment before it fell to his face, began swiping away the caterpillar horde from his eyes, off his cheeks and his nose and from his forehead and neck. And he was never so glad to hear a southern twang then he was then.
"We gotcha, Dean. We're getting 'em all off you, I swear," Benny vowed from his kneeled position by his friend's head. But he couldn't help internally cringing at the present situation his friend was in, felt a return of that nearly overwhelming fear that had kept him motionless for far too long before he broke free, sank to the ground by his friend's side when Dean only numbly watched him, didn't move…at all. It made his motions a little rougher as he ran his hands through Dean's hair to dislodge the insects.
Startled, he cursed as one of the caterpillars bit his hand. Slapping it into mush, he fling its remains off his hand and started brushing the critters from Dean's shoulders.
Having cleared Dean's legs of the majority of the caterpillars, Cas crawled forward, began to remove the mass covering Dean's torso. But all of a sudden, he stilled and his eyes flew up to Dean's. Because under his hand he could feel it: Dean's agony.
Silently Dean screamed as his guts twisted, seemingly tore and broke into pieces. And he didn't care about the advantages of "floating like a butterfly, stinging like a bee," he so did not want to become a mothman.
Without warning Benny of his intended actions, Cas grabbed Dean's limp arm and pulled his friend off the ground and over his shoulder. Then he hurriedly started to carry Dean away from the ground zero of the caterpillar hive. Didn't know what was happening with Dean but knew the less contact the man had with the insects, the better.
Benny surged to his feet, followed in Cas' wake, cursed as another small spike of pain erupted from his arm and he brushed another caterpillar free of his flesh. But his next step was a stumble and suddenly he knew. His mouth not working like it should, he slurred out, "Cas! Venom!" before his legs crumbled underneath him, sent him crashing onto the ground. But he caught himself, still had feeling in his arms, for the moment.
Spinning around at Benny's words, Cas watched as the vampire collapsed to the ground. Making a quick determination that they had made it far enough away from the caterpillar horde, he carefully lowered his best friend's limp body to the ground, hated that Dean didn't say a word, stayed exactly in the position he placed him in. Reaching down, he carefully grabbed Dean's chin and turned his friend's face toward him. What he found in Dean's eyes was agony, fear and a scream for help. His help.
But even as he was about to promise Dean he would be alright, that he would make it alright, he noticed the discoloration on Dean's cheek. Tentatively, he skimmed his fingers over the patch of skin and his eyes shot to Dean's in fear, because what was under his fingers, it was not solely human flesh anymore. Holding Dean's gaze, he sought out the advice of the one person who had a tendency to turn an impossible situation into a victory. "Your skin, it's changing, Dean. I think the insects have transforming properties."
'You think, Cas?!' Dean sarcastically drawled internally before another transformation episode turned everything into white hot agony.
Practically able to feel Dean's agony, Cas cursed himself for being without the ability to heal. Could only place a hand on Dean's chest and slip his other hand down to the junction between Dean's shoulder and neck to offer Dean the comfort of his presence as his friend rode out another wave of pain. "Dean, I don't…what should I do?" he implored, because he understood nature, but this, this wasn't part of God's plan, none of it was.
For Dean there were only two viable options left. 'Either save me or kill me,' he conveyed to Cas with his eyes, because he already felt less than human in his soul, didn't need his body following suit. He would choose death over becoming some monster, even when death there in Purgatory might be the end of the line.
From his stooped position on the ground a few feet from Dean, Benny wheezed out, "Kill 'em," his eyes rising up to clash with Cas'.
'Whoa, hey! I meant try and save me first and if you can't…then off me,' Dean silently protested, knew that Benny would get that he wouldn't want to be some emasculated butterfly man but thought his friend would give it the old vampire try to save him first.
Realizing that Cas was not comprehending his advice, Benny hung his head down a moment, could practically feel his vampirian cells fighting against the toxins of the caterpillars, the transformation they thought they wanted dibs on. Rising his head with effort, he enunciated like Cas didn't get English, "Bugs…kill 'em…all."
Understanding Benny's theory, Cas looked down to Dean, sickly noted that his friend was still heavily covered in caterpillars, probably had a number of worms under his clothing as well. Then his eyes darted back to the path, to where thousands of other caterpillars slithered, under leaves, up tree trunks, under the ground. His throat tightened as he brokenly admitted, "There is no way I can be sure of killing them all."
His arms losing their strength, Benny's chin and chest ruthlessly impacted with the ground, had him growling in frustrated pain. But he still had the ability to move his head, to seek out Dean's prone form and Cas' anxious features. "Cas, find a way! I think I can fight the change.…Dean can't." And his eyes both demanded and implored the angel to do something to save Dean.
Hanging his head, Cas stammered, "I…I don't …" as his fingers gripped desperately onto Dean's jacket. He despised himself for being powerless when Dean's life…very soul was at stake, thought Dean would hate him for his weakness. But when he gathered his courage and met his friend's pained gaze, he saw Dean's acceptance of his fate but also…faith. 'Faith in me, that I'll finally do the right thing,' Cas soberly realized and it was a great weight to bear, to save Dean all on his own.
Grimly, Cas knew that he had only one move to make, one angelic power to utilize, knew that the possible outcome could be the loss of Dean's life, or worse, if dying in Purgatory caused a soul to cease to exist. But looking into Dean's eyes, he knew what his friend's choice was. That Dean Winchester would rather die a man than live as a monster. But it wasn't that clear cut of a choice for Cas. For he would accept Dean in whatever form he came in, understood why Dean could not, would not kill Sam when heaven dictated it, would rather die with his brother than give up on him. Because some bonds were more important than anything else.
So Cas leaned over Dean, steadily held his friend's gaze and hoarsely warned, "This will be unpleasant for you but it might work." Immediately, he saw relief and gratitude spring into Dean's eyes, gratitude for whatever he would do next, for whatever he deemed right. And he saw something else that outshined the rest: Trust. Though he knew he was unworthy of it, Dean trusted him. Still. Even after all the times he had failed him, betrayed him.
Cas prayed that Dean's trust in him wasn't in vain.
"Benny, close your eyes," he ordered even as he placed his own hand over Dean's eyes. Then he placed his other hand on the forest floor and sent a minuscule surge of his grace rippling into the ground. White light arched from his hand across the forest floor, underneath Dean and Benny and to the caterpillar horde and up the trees, turned the whole area into a flash of white luminous lightening.
And amidst that blanket of radiance, Benny gave a raw scream of unimaginable agony, a scream that echoed throughout the forest. But Dean's ravaging soundless scream, only Cas heard.
SNSNSNSN ~ Present ~ SNSNSNSN
First, there is a nothingness, then, from one second to the next, there is consuming agony. Agony he needs to escape from. But even as his eyes fly open, as his body lurches upright, the pain doesn't abate but spikes higher. And what would have been a bellow of pain, tumbles out of his lips as a contorted cry and he feels himself falling backwards.
But hands catch him, stop his descent back into the black void he just emerged from. And there's a voice, a voice he knows, wants, needs to hear, even if the words are muffled, incomprehensible to him right then. And as a hand slips up his back to the base of his neck, supports his too heavy head, his eyes start to focus, let him see that it's not just wishful thinking on his part, that Sam's there, Sam's got him.
A decidedly freaked out Sam, whose words are starting to make sense.
"Take a breath, Dean. Take a breath!"
And Dean does, for Sam, because any disobeyed order from Sam would be harped on, forever. But it's painful, the breathing thing, ignites a new level of pain through his chest now, like his lungs have forgotten that is a function they are supposed to perform without prodding. And a cough sputters out next instead of a clean exhale, wracks his body in the process. It makes slipping back into the void an enticing proposition.
Detecting the fluttering of his brother's eyes, knowing what it signifies, Sam possessively tightens his hold on his brother and implores, "No, no, no. Keep your eyes open, Dean. Stay awake…just for a little while." Because he's unwilling to let Dean slip under the void again, not before he gets to talk to Dean, to make sure Dean knows where he is, that he is still with him. But even more selfishly, he needs to connect with Dean, to be reassured all over again that Dean's there with him.
Dean's eyes blink a few more seconds but do not close, remain open and settle on Sam.
"Dean?" Sam tentatively beckons, has been here a few times today, thinking Dean would finally wake up, has been disappointed all the times prior.
Dean swallows and it's painful, his mouth as dry as it is. But still his lips form his brother's name, croak out a sound that's "Sam", at least in his head it is.
By the blinding smile being bestowed on him, he got it right.
"Yeah," then Sam realizes he's still got Dean captured in his arms, hasn't settled his brother's just-put-back-together body back onto the bed, does so now with infinite care, though he doesn't miss Dean's sharp intake of air and the tension zinging through his brother's frame when he moves him. And he knows he should be calling for the nurse, letting them examine Dean, give Dean morphine to push away the agony. But he doesn't want to share Dean, not yet.
"Thirs..ty," Dean rasps and Sam slips his hand from behind Dean's head and snags the plastic cup with ice, knows the routine well, too well.
"Its ice," he cautions as he tips the cup against Dean's lips until a mini iceberg slips into Dean's mouth, then he puts the cup back onto the tray.
Dean's eyes close in bliss and he mumbles around the ice, "Thanks."
And Dean's gratitude for something as simple as ice has Sam's heart clenching. Taking a careful seat on the bed by Dean's waist, he contents himself with watching Dean's every facial reaction. "Thought you weren't going to come back to me this time," slips out before he knows he's even thinking those thoughts. But he doesn't retract them, can't, not when they are the truth. What's been plaguing him for days.
Dean's eyes open, hold his and Sam knows that he's doing a poor job of covering up how close he is to the edge of his fortitude, that there's tears welling in his eyes, that Dean shouldn't have to deal with his tremulous hold over his emotions. But in the same moment, he realizes that Dean needs to know he feels, how he feels, how he feels about him, because keeping everything locked down since Dean's return, it had nearly destroyed everything he held dear.
Dean pulls a small smile out of his meager reserve of strength, says as his eyes hold Sam's, "Like a bad penny… I keep coming back."
With a closed mouth tremulous smile, Sam nods even as a tear breaks free and splashes down his face. But then his strong façade crumples and he bends over and catches Dean in a cautious but desperate hug, his chin resting on Dean's shoulder. And not taking in a breath is the only way he can hold back the sobs that are lodged in his throat. Because for nearly a week, the very real possibility hung over him that he would lose Dean again at any given moment, that his brother would be taken away from him and he couldn't do a thing to stop it. And yes, he had lost Dean before, but this time, he knew it was coming, it wasn't quick, just some explosion of Dick and Dean was gone, wasn't some ferocious attack by hell hounds or the hundreds of ways Gabriel had killed Dean on those Tuesdays. No, this had been infinitely slow, real, gave him time to drown second by second in his rising terror, for the frigid grip of grief to start to stake its claim over him, to think of a millions things he wanted to tell his brother and never had, to be consumed by aching regret at the myriad of ways he had hurt Dean since his brother's return from Purgatory. And all that is threatening to burst out of him now, like a tsunami no floodgate would have a chance of holding back.
Even barely awake, doped up on pain meds and not sure how he ended up where he is, Dean senses that Sam's barely keeping it together, is two seconds away from falling apart, that the arms holding him are trembling and Sam's not taken a breath in nearly a full minute. That his brother may be the one holding him but Sam's drawing strength from their physical connection, needs him to tell him everything's ok now.
Overriding his body's protests, Dean slips his arms protectively around Sam, ignores his throat's complaint as he soothes, "Hey, I'm alright, Sammy. I'm here and I'm alright." For a moment, Sam's arm cinches tighter around him and then loosens but doesn't release its possessive grip. And Sam's now inhaling and exhaling shaky but measured breaths by his ear. Tenderly, he squeezes the back of Sam's neck and the last of his brother's tautness ebbs away, feels his baby brother relax in his arm.
For a long moment, neither brother says anything, simply hangs on to each other.
It's Sam who pulls back first, realizes that he's practically laying on top of his wounded brother. "I'm sorry, I didn't hurt you, did I?" he worriedly asks, even as his hands still have a loose hold on Dean's arm and the front of his brother's hospital gown.
"You, hurt me?! Come on," Dean jeers and knows his effort is worth it when Sam glares down at him. Suddenly knows too that, everything he did to survive Purgatory and get out, it was about this moment, about Sam piercing him with that embarrassingly, heartrending look of unreserved fondness that he's leveling at him now and the goofy content smile that he's presently sporting, 'like his world's better because I'm in it.' But Sam had that wrong. 'It's my world's that's better, Sammy,' Dean silently corrects, hopes one day to tell Sam that …when he can coherently string more than two words together.
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Tbc
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Thanks for reading and for continuing to be so generous in your reviews!
Have a great day!
Cheryl W.
