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.

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Chapter 23: Fight For You

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Rule # 23: The only thing more terrifying than facing a seemingly unbeatable enemy alone is facing them with someone willing to fight for you to his last breath.

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It's what Dean's wanted, ever since he stepped out from the white light of the portal into the Hundred-Mile Wilderness in Maine: For Sam to be at his side, willingly. For his brother to just listen to him. But now that it's happening, that Sam's right there, perched on the bed by his hip, waiting for him to say something, to open up, to trust him, Dean honestly doesn't know where to start, how to talk about Purgatory without drowning in the memories, without crumbling the dike holding back the thousand and one things he doesn't want to feel.

Dean's silence, the way his brother's looking at him, almost with nervousness, it puts a crack in Sam's conviction that he's doing the right thing. Makes him wonder if pushing Dean to talk is more about satisfying his aching need to know what Dean's been through than healing his brother's scarred psyche. After all, Zeke had said 'don't let Dean go through it alone', not 'trap him in a room when he's too weak to walk away and brow beat him into talking about Purgatory'. 'I'm acting as if the details are something I'm owed, instead of being Dean's choice whether or not to share them with me.'

"Dean, hey, we don't have to do this now," Sam gently relents, guilt surging in him when Dean nearly flinches at the disruption of the heavy silence in the room. 'Great, Sam. Make him feel like you're his interrogator instead of his brother.' Aching to get back to the role he loves best, he lightheartedly assures, "Contrary to your accusation, I didn't forget the pie." Because that's what a good little brother did, right? Brought the pie. Didn't actually help his brother, no, just….avoided the heavy topics because that's easier, safer, hurt less, didn't put the just restored peace between them in jeopardy.

Surprised that Sam's suddenly backing down, Dean isn't sure if he's relieved or disappointed, until he sees how crushed Sam is. That Sam will consider this a failure, him not opening up, him not trusting him. So when Sam moves as if to get off the bed, to probably track down the pie for the peace offering he thinks is necessary, Dean puts his hand on Sam's. And it says a lot that Sam instantly abandons his plan to hop off the bed and his eyes fly up to his with worry, yes, but hope too.

"Sam, I don't…" Dean haltingly opens with before petering out, still at a loss how to begin the conversation, how to talk about what he swore he would never talk about.

Sensing that Dean's half sentence isn't a stubborn refusal to open up to him but an uncertainty how to start, Sam tentatively offers up a gentle prod, "You already told me you met up with Gordon. You have any more reunions like that?" even as his stomach roils at the endless number of monsters that Dean had sent on a one way ticket to Purgatory. All of which would have been out for Dean's blood.

It shouldn't surprise Dean that it's Sam who comes to his rescue, gives him a launching point. After all, isn't it always Sam who comes to his rescue when he's about to shatter? "Surprisingly, no. But Gordon…" there Dean suddenly breaks off, pulls his touch away from Sam and finds the bed covers fascinating. He can hear Gordon's words kicking around in his head and can't quiet the gut-wrenching fear that the hunter/vampire might still be right.

When Dean's voice catches on Walker's name, Sam fights to not clench his teeth, manages instead to softly urge, "Gordon what?" because he just knew there was more to that reunion story than Dean had told him before. That there were parts that Dean hadn't wanted him to know, parts that wounded Dean, and not physically.

"He called me a monster," Dean imparts with a mocking smirk, eyes coming up to hold Sam's suddenly wide gaze. "Said you'd be disgusted by what I had become." But he can't quote the rest, that Sam would want to slit his throat in his sleep. Can't let that dark prediction see the light of day. Instead he pulls on a bitter smile and disdainfully elaborates, "I think that pretty much sums up how I acted on my Purgatory vacation."

"And you were listening to Gordon, why?" Sam incredulously volleys back, his anger not for Dean but for Walker. Only in their lives could a dead enemy, not only make a reappearance but know their biggest weaknesses, how best to screw with them, to hurt them.

"Because he's not wrong," Dean stiffly counters, wants Sam to know the worst of it, the worst of him, needs to know, to test if Sam has as much forgiveness in his soul for him as he thinks he does. 'And if he doesn't?' But Dean can't think beyond that drowning fear.

"Yes, he is, Dean!" Sam fervently denies, reaching out to latch onto Dean's forearm, hoping the physical connection reinforces his words. Needs Dean to accept that 'disgusted' is the very last thing he feels for him, for his unrelenting strength, ability to not give up, for his against-all-odds return to him.

"No. No, he's not, Sam," Dean bleakly contradicts. "What did you say…so I can slash and dice without explaining myself. You think I'm a butcher…and I am."

Sam opens his mouth to apologize, to admit how stupid he was for saying that, for thinking, even for a hot second, what Dean thinks he was thinking. But Dean speaks before he can.

As much as he braced himself for Sam to learn the worst…to think the worst of him, Dean can't help but offer up a defense for his revolting actions. "But that was the only way, the only way I made it through Purgatory. And if you can't condone what I've done…." his voice deteriorating into silence because if Sam can't pardon his actions, where did that leave them, where did that leave him.

"I can… I do," Sam fiercely declares, his hand gripping tighter to Dean's forearm, linking Dean to him, telling Dean that letting him go isn't in the cards. Taking in a shaky breath, he gentles his tone but his sorrow and apology pour out of every word, "I wasn't there, ok. I don't know….what you went through to just stay alive. I just…don't." And the not knowing had been his choice, he understands that now. He didn't want to know, couldn't bear to know the ghastly nightmare he had abandoned Dean to for a friggin' year. He can barely think of it now, has to concentrate on the here and now, on the fact that he got his brother back. So he says with conviction, "All I know is…I'm glad you did whatever you did there, Dean, because it kept you alive, got you back to me."

But Dean's shaking his head, finds he can't accept Sam's blanket forgiveness. "Sam, you don't know...I was without mercy. When Cas and I got separated, I tortured my way across Purgatory to find him."

"And how many people died with the apocalypse I set off, when I freed Lucy, huh? And I didn't spare Mac, Vickie or Ivan, not when it came down to your life…or theirs," Sam bluntly compares, knows that if they are going to throw out a list of their atrocities, he's putting his own on the table.

"You didn't kill them with your own hands, Sam," Dean stridently protests his brother's assigned guilt.

"I might as well have," Sam quietly counters but his eyes don't shy away from Dean's. "But you forgive me for all of it, don't you?" his words more a declaration than a question.
Dean's answer is immediate and resolute, "Course, Sam," carries a hint of frustration because Sam shouldn't have to even question that. "It wasn't your fault. You didn't mean ….

"…To place your survival above everyone else's?" Sam finishes, a twinge of mockery in his albeit affectionate tone. "Yeah, yeah I did, Dean," he confesses without repentance because he would make the same choices again, and again. He would always choose Dean.

"So if you're expecting me to take the high ground about you killing monsters in Purgatory to stay alive, I'll have to disappoint you," Sam sardonically declares. "I mean….monsters, Dean. That right there kinda says you weren't in a Hallmark movie, that it wasn't the place to turn the other cheek. Right?" he lightly prods, hopes his joke doesn't fall flat. At the slow appearance of Dean's weak but honest smirk, the tightness in his chest finally starts to loosen. He's slowly but surely getting through to Dean, proving that Gordon was wrong a thousand times over.

"Yeah, but I bet you still woulda found time to drag me into chick-flick moments," Dean teases, can't quite imagine how his time in Purgatory would have changed had Sam been there with him. Changed for the good…and the bad. Because the fuglies, they recognized weakness, didn't underestimate the importance of leverage, sought out every avenue to smother whatever good was in him, whatever affection he felt for those traveling at his side. Logically, he knew that it would have been easier if he hadn't befriended Cas, hadn't sought out Cas, if he had refused to feel anything for anyone. That it would have been worlds better if Cas and Benny had smartened up and ditched him long before he stopped being an asset and started to become a liability to their survival.

"Probably," Sam admits with a chuckle but when his eyes alight on Dean again, all mirth flees at his brother's despondent expression. Tells him that whatever memories his brother's reliving, they don't involve shoddily concealed words of affection and laughter. Not wanting to lose Dean again to those horrific reminiscences, realizing that he would rather incite Dean's anger at him than risk that, he bluntly says, "But then again, Benny was there to take my place."

Dean pales at Sam's statement, knows how terribly wrong it is on so many levels. No one could ever take Sam's place in his heart and the fact that he told Sam someone could….it makes him not only a lousy brother but a manipulative jerk. Some coward who, after being hurt by Sam's seemingly indifference to his disappearance and annoyance at his reappearance, decided to hurt his brother back the best way he knew how: by supposedly replacing him. "Sam, I didn't mean… I should have never said what I did. Yeah, Benny….we were tight but…"

"No, I …I get why you wanted to ditch me at the hospital, that I've hurt you and you couldn't trust me. I get that," Sam counters, knows exactly where his sins lie. "But Dean, I'm trying…."

But Dean can't let Sam buy into that misconception. "I didn't push you away at the hospital because you screwed up, Sam. I pushed you away because I did," he darkly clarifies, knows who the real screw up in their family is.

Sam, however, is already interrupting, a threat to his tone, "Dean, if you say that you should have known there were two Wendigoes again, I'm going to…."

"Not here…there," Dean corrects before he takes the plunge and owns up to his past mistakes. "I screwed up in Purgatory, Sam. More than once but this one time, when we were close to getting to the portal…..I almost got all three of us wasted," he bites out, feels nauseous at how true his words are, how close Cas and Benny came to dying, all because of him, because of their loyalty to him, misplaced as it was.

Unwilling to let Dean struggle under the weight of guilt, Sam gently points out, "But you didn't get them killed, Dean. And considering Cas and Benny are still talking to you, they apparently aren't holding a grudge for whatever happened."

"You sure about that?" Dean challenges, his hurt and self-disgust evident. "Benny didn't gripe about us parting ways and Cas flew off to parts unknown and we haven't heard from him since. Seems to me they're really pretty happy to get away from me," he lowly jeers, his loathing all for himself, for his choices, not for Cas or Benny's.

Sam's about to protest Dean's assumption when a revelation hits him, has him stammering, "Wait. You and Benny…You said…What do you mean you parted ways? I know you said he wasn't coming to the hospital for you but…." Sam falters there, doesn't want to put too much hope into a wrong conjecture.

Not expecting to have this topic come up quite so soon, Dean tiredly rests his head back against the pillows and eyes his brother. "I told Benny that it was best if we went our separate ways." And he hopes Sam can't detect how painful it was for him to make that decision. Because, no, Benny could never replace Sam but he was a friend, a good one. And Dean couldn't fight the feeling that he was letting Benny down somehow.

Dean's declaration, it's more than Sam has allowed himself to hope for and yet… Dean's words to Benny, they were once directed at him. When Dean thought they were the oil and fire of the Armageddon and the best thing they could do was stay apart. Forever.

Feeling a pang of sympathy for the vampire is the last thing Sam thought he would be guilty of, but, having been on the receiving end of that particular speech, of facing a future void of Dean, he knows that whatever Benny's feeling right now, it isn't anything good. That, contrary to what Dean thought, the vampire wasn't off celebrating Dean ditching him, but the very opposite.

That, however, didn't mean Sam had any intentions whatsoever of encouraging Dean to revoke his goodbye to the vampire. But neither could he let Dean keep believing that Benny left him of his own free will, because he wanted to. "Dean, he let you go because you asked him to. Don't confuse his act of loyalty as him being happy about it."

Dean lances a narrow eyed, mocking look upon his little brother. "Yeah and when did you get to know Benny, huh? You met him on the dock and, oh yeah, you tried to track him down and kill him. So where's this awesome insight coming from?"

Sam fidgets on the bed, knows it's his own fault the conversation has drifted this way. "Because he saved your life…because of the way you talk about him…." But he says the next words under his breath, "Because of the way you talk to him." And true to his luck, those are the words Dean latches onto.

"What? The way I talk to him. You've been eavesdropping on my conversations?" Dean asks, not with accusation but doubt, because he knows what he's proposing is impossible, that he had been careful to always step away from Sam to hold a conversation with Benny.

"No," Sam mumbles like a five year old who's being grilled about a missing cookie.

Which brings out Dean's admonishing parent tone, "Sam…"

Knowing it's too late to declare the fifth amendment, Sam's explanation comes out in a tumble of words. "You were delirious and you…you thought I was him and you talked about the times he saved you even when you told him to leave you behind. And when I said I wouldn't let you die….you believed that it was him making that pledge and you trusted him to keep it."

Embarrassment colors Dean's pale cheeks and he nervously clears his throat, tries for lightness as he quips, "I do anything else lame you're not telling me about? Like…I don't know, take my clothing off, do yoga, talk about that Tulsa waitress again?!" Mentally, Dean tacks on a few other things he prays he didn't actually do in Sam's presence, '…beg for my life, scream like a stark raving lunatic, call your name over and over again.'

Recognizing the wariness in his brother's eyes, Sam forces a smile, teases, "You kept asking for kelp salads, mocha lattes and soy burgers."

A chuckle erupts out of Dean. "Yeah, sure I did," but he's smirking and he playfully knocks his knee into Sam's. Knows his brother's giving him a free pass and he appreciates it, can only deal with one embarrassing melt down at a time.

And with Dean's mischievous jostling of his knee, Sam discovers that his smile suddenly isn't forced.

With Sam giving him that goofy smile of his, Dean good-naturedly shakes his head, feels some of his dread dissipate. And it drives home the point that, he's not talking to his father, he's talking to Sam. There wasn't going to be a 'the hundred things you did wrong' debrief after Sam learns what happened in Purgatory. Instead, there will be sympathy, support. Sam will probably even find a way to make it sound like it wasn't his fault how things went down. And as much as he knows he doesn't deserve any excuses or leeway for his failures, it doesn't mean he doesn't want them all the same, doesn't want to hear Sam's insight…to get Sam's absolution for his weakness.

"So what happened?" Sam carefully quests, has started to feel a certainty that whatever has been haunting Dean's waking and sleeping hours, it's about something more than fear, has the trappings of guilt woven into its fabric.

Shifting a little on the bed, Dean winces even at that small motion but the pain helps clear his mind, to focus on Sam's sympathetic, worried expression and not on how things had happened, how they nearly ended. "I let my guard down, wasn't paying attention to my surroundings," his censure for himself making the words rough. "Which, in Purgatory, is like asking something to come eat you."

Fear ratchets in Sam's chest, makes breathing a labor of determination and forming words nearly impossible, because he knows with cheerless confidence that whatever Dean says next, it is probably going to give him nightmares. 'You've spent enough time hiding, pretending Dean's pain wasn't partly your fault. It's time you step up to the plate, learn what he's been through and start doing something to make it better for him,' he rebukes himself before he tries to joke, "So I take it something tried to eat you?" but his voice is tremulous and hoarse, alludes to the dread expanding in his chest.

"Eat me? Don't know. Hit me with a toxin that dropped me like a stone, paralyzed me and started to turn me into an insect, yeah," Dean bluntly announces.

It's almost more information than Sam can process. "Toxin…. Paralyzed you? Wait, insect?! Was it an arachne, like Sheriff Dobb?!" Remembering the Sheriff's half human, half spider mutation, Sam feels a chill slide down his spine at the prospect of that happening to his brother. And him not being there to stop it.

"No, no relation to Shelob. Caterpillars. Hundreds of them. And I'd like to think I was going to be special, end up as a butterfly," Dean spells out with his personal brand of sarcastic wit. But he's fighting down a shiver and his hands itch to scrub over his arms, his legs, his face, to brush off the imaginary feel of the caterpillars crawling over every part of him again.

Dean's words echo in Sam's head, 'Caterpillars. Hundreds of them,' paint a picture that horrifies him. And he doesn't miss Dean's shaky hand fisting in the sheets, the catch in his brother's breathing or the dredged up fear darkening Dean's eyes. Heaping vile curses on fate for letting this happen to Dean, for his own failure to prevent it, Sam feels powerless to make any of it better for his brother, fears that any touch he offers now will not be welcome, that any words he could say…are too little, too late. So he clamps his eyes closed, wills his burning eyes to not let moisture escape because he has no right, none to let his own pain be released, to spur Dean on to try to make him feel better. And in his head, he's shouting, screaming 'I didn't save him from this, didn't even try!'

But another thought slashes across his scream, allows him to wrestle his emotions under control, open his eyes and offer Dean a port in the storm. 'But someone was there when I wasn't, someone saved Dean when I couldn't.' And as much as he feels relieved at that truth, part of him feels a surge of jealousy too. "But Cas…or Benny, they spoiled your butterfly aspirations, huh?" he quips back, hoping to give Dean the ability to focus on the fact that he was alive, hadn't been turned. Not to mention cover up his own myriad of runaway emotions.

But Dean doesn't come back with a smart comment, instead his eyes lose the rest of their light and he again finds the bedcovers easier to look at than his brother. Dean's reaction deep sixes Sam's notion to hide his fear away, has him anxiously asking, "They did stop the transformation right?" His earlier gratitude for Dean's traveling buddies taking a nose dive if Cas or Benny didn't spare Dean that agony.

Dean gives a nod, before he mutters, "Would have been better if they hadn't." He doesn't catch his brother's scowl of denial as he bitterly continues, "Because in the process of saving me, Benny got a hefty dose of the toxins and Cas sacrificed some of his grace, which made them both vulnerable."

Sam can't find it in himself to feel bad about the consequences to the angel and vampire, not when the outcome was Dean being alive and not morphing into a caterpillar or a butterfly. But apparently Dean did feel bad. Worse, his brother felt guilty. "Ok, but you all survived. And you knew next time not to commune with nature," he tries for lightness to lift some of Dean's guilt for circumstances that weren't in his control. Heck, nothing that happened in Purgatory was in Dean's control.

Raising his eyes to Sam, Dean quietly reveals, "Story doesn't end there, Sammy. While I couldn't move a muscle, Benny was barely keeping his feet and Cas was too weak to even wing away, ghoul Donnor party of 5 showed up."

"Oh crap," Sam breathes, had a special hatred for the flesh eating monsters.

"Yeah," Dean agrees with a grim smile. "And down there, undead human flesh and organs were a real delicacy."

Sam suddenly feels sick. His bad memories of the ghoul wearing Adam's face preparing him for dinner mix toxically with soulless him's memories of two ghouls holding Dean down, ready to sink their teeth into his brother after Samuel handed Dean over to them. It made it impossible for him to blunt the mental images being conjured up by Dean's story. Especially when he factored into his brother's tale that Dean couldn't fight the ghouls off, couldn't even friggin' move. Using one of his brother's tactics, he employs humor to mask his fear, "Since you don't have a closet hankering for Long Pork, I'm guessing the ghouls went away hungry."

Dean gives a half smile at Sammy's humor. "Didn't go away at all." But then his lips turn up into a brash smile. "They got eaten."

Sam's eyebrows arch into his bangs. "Did Benny….?"

"Leviathans," Dean announces, can't believe he is actually telling Sam all of this. He's even feeling a bit satisfied that Sam is sounding so astonished.

"Leviathans?" Sam repeats back in surprise. "You didn't mention them before. I mean…not like you've told me much but….they were the T-Rexes of Purgatory right? Alphas?"

"Oh yeah, they were top dog, well, not top dog because there were familiars and weredogs and skinwalkers…."

"Dean," Sam impatiently cuts across his brother's tangent, imploring his brother to not leave him in suspense.

At Sam's admonishment, Dean continues, "Anyway, the Levis could track Cas so I figured, like you once said, when you're up against Mothra, sic Godzilla on 'em."

Sam tries to track Dean's logic. "Wait, I said that when both heaven and hell wanted Anna." Then his expression goes ballistic. "You sicced the Leviathans on the ghouls?! When you were right there! Paralyzed!"

Dean gives a small shrug. "Yeah. Worked…sorta. We got away from the ghouls in the mayhem."

But Sam's an expert at reading between his brother's lines, knows Dean's likely to skip a detail or twenty if he thinks Sam will have a meltdown over them. "Sorta?!" Sam parrots back with emphasis, knows that one word could allude to a truckload of bad things. "What do you mean it 'sorta worked'?!" he demands, doesn't want Dean editing the story down to a G rating for his benefit, to make it easier on him. 'And harder on himself, so he still has to bear it all on his own.'

Dean has the good grace to blush because it might not have been his best plan, calling the Leviathans down on their heads…or leaping right into this tale for Sam. 'I should have eased into it, started with a few werewolf encounters, built up to this one.'

Sensing his freak out is making Dean uncomfortable, Sam exhales loudly, runs a hand down his face and says as calmly as he can while hearing about his brother's life being in jeopardy, "Tell me the rest of it, Dean." Because the whole point of this was to let Dean talk things out, not to bury them, not continue to carry unwarranted guilt. And since he hadn't been there with Dean, it was the best…ok, this was only way Sam knew how to help his brother carry the burden of his memories.

The 'rest of it' isn't so easy for Dean to admit to. Especially when he knows in his heart of hearts that he gave up, accepted that he was just done, that he wouldn't see Sam again. Luckily, Benny and Cas had something to say about that.

When Dean speaks, Sam cringes because whatever brashness his brother's voice carried a moment ago is gone, has been replaced by raw desolation. "Benny's still fighting the toxin in his system and Cas, he's weak and wasting more of his strength by hauling my paralyzed carcass through the woods. So when the surviving Levis came after us, I play bait while Cas and Benny flank them," Dean recaps, his tone hinting at bad news to come.

At the prospect of Dean luring the Leviathans right to him, a Dean that couldn't defend himself, who had to rely solely on Cas and Benny for his continued survival, Sam feels his stomach contents sour. And as much as he wants to direct his anger at the angel or the vampire for the piss poor plan, he knows its true author. "That was your idea, right? To play bait, to sacrifice yourself," he derisively deducts, angry disapproval ringing in each word. Doesn't wait for Dean's acknowledgment before he bounds off the bed, bites out a curse and levels his accusation at his brother. "All you ever think about is sacrificing yourself. What about the fact that I wouldn't want you hurt. That I missed you, wanted you back. Did you ever think about me, Dean?!"

The question is so absurd that Dean's shouting his answer back before he remembers he wasn't going to tell Sam this tidbit. "Course I did! I was thinking about you, about getting back to you when I walked right into caterpillar central. I was distracted, let myself get taken down by insects. Insects, Sam! Billion things there with sharp claws and sharper teeth and I go and get ambushed by bugs."

Sam's breath catches in his lungs, not with censure but sympathy. Because he can wholly picture the scene….knows it intimately. Like when he turned his back on Jake when Dean called his name, when he knew Dean was alive. And it had cost him something more precious than his own life, it had cost him Dean. For with that minuscule inattention, Dean's soul was bartered away to Hell.

Seeing Sam's shell shocked expression, knowing that Sam would somehow manage to think it's his fault he got distracted, Dean mumbles with self-loathing, "It was stupid of me to lose focus. To get caught up in the hope of getting out of there." Of seeing you. 'It was my fault Sammy, not yours.'

Dean silently curses when Sam turns away, turns his back on him, walks away. Wishes he knew what Sam needed to hear because he would say it, is about to call out for his brother when Sam's footsteps lead, not to the door but to the kitchenette. Stunned, he watches as Sam fills a glass with water then turns around and heads back to him.

Back at Dean's side, Sam, positive that little brother knows best in this instance, doesn't ask Dean if he's thirty but simply raises the cup to Dean's mouth, nor does he relinquish the glass to Dean's shaky grip but holds it steady until Dean's got his fill. His own nerves needing a reprieve as much as Dean's, Sam takes a few measured swallows from the same glass before putting it on the nightstand. But instead of reclaiming his position on the bed, he pulls a chair close, is determined to give Dean some space, to convey that Dean can tell the rest of the story at his own pace. A beat later, he can't help but lob out with affectionate exasperation, "Dude, only you could piss off caterpillars." And that right there proved why Sam had been working on an ulcer worrying about his big brother since he was ten years old.

Dean finds himself laughingly volleying back, "Shud up." Before he taunts, "So you want to hear the rest of the story or not?" knowing perfectly well that Sam's always been one for sticking with a book until the bitter end.

"Absolutely," Sam replies with a smile that doesn't touch the anxiousness edging his eyes. Then he helpfully recaps where Dean left off, "So you stupidly made yourself bait for the Leviathans and Benny and Cas are trying to take them out before they reach you…" enjoyed Dean's scowl at his censure for his crappy plan. Thankfully Dean didn't punish him by keeping him in suspense any longer.

"In the meantime, I got a visitor: Dick Roman's replacement. And he wasn't there to thank me for helping him get his promotion," Dean darkly reports before the memories take over, feel more real than the bed under him, the room around him….and his brother beside him.

SNSNSNSN~ Purgatory ~ SNSNSNSN

The lead Leviathan coiled his hand tighter around Dean's throat, anticipated crushing the bones under his fingers even as he couldn't fight down a pang of disappointment. The infamous hunter was proving ridiculously, even boringly easy to kill. No challenge whatsoever. That their leader had been killed by something so…weak…so lowly as the nearly dead human presently in his grip, it shattered his high esteem of his predecessor. Irrevocably. And he hated the vile human for that most of all. And nothing would appease that…but blood. The human's blood coursing down his throat, his organs torn apart by his teeth, his flesh chewed from his bones.

In anticipation, the Leviathan opened his mouth, was determined to not consume the human in one swallow, to savor him, to leave some part of him intact, to put on a pike for all his people to see. But before he can sink his teeth into the man's chest, unexpected agony explodes from his back and his fingers lose their hold on his prey.

The merciless pressure around his neck inexplicably gone, Dean choked on the air filtering into his bruised throat and frantically tried to blink away the slowly receding darkness. Gradually, shadows took shape and he could make out the Leviathan, arching forward, could hear the Levi's cry of pain over his own ragged inhales. Read the surprised discomfort on his enemy's features before the red haired Levi shot a murderous glare over his shoulder.

A glare that Benny, though he was breathing heavily and was now unarmed, reciprocated with a smug smile. As far as he was concerned, the Leviathan being pissed at him for sailing Dean's Purgatory knife through the air to embed into his back was good news. It meant the Leviathan wasn't finishing the job of killing Dean, might even come after him. But that hope died when the red haired Levi smiled….and managed to pull the knife out of his own back.

Returning his unwanted attention to Dean, the knife Benny had graciously provided in his hand, the Levi drawled, "You know, I wanted to sample you but was afraid you would just taste too good to stop. Now, thanks to your friend, I can just cut a piece of you off for an appetizer…" he narrated as he grabbed Dean's arm and began to press the knife to the junction just below Dean's elbow, intended to cut a strip of meat off the appendage like it was a turkey drumstick.

Cas startled Dean and the Leviathan when he blinked into existence right beside them.

Not wasting time on talk, Cas plunged Ruby's knife toward the Levi's throat. But the Leviathan caught Cas' wrist, held the point of the knife back as it hovered inches from his throat, countered by pressing the Purgatory blade to the angel's throat with a sneer. "Castiel, I presume. We never had the pleasure of meeting before. You know someone had to stay here, hold down the fort."

And Dean had no delusions that Benny would reach the threesome in time, that the Levi wouldn't slit Castiel's throat, couldn't kill the angel. Had felt the Levi's strength, recognized that the power the biblical creature wielded here in Purgatory, it far surpassed Dick's limitations in his human husk. Hopelessly knew that he was going to be a helpless spectator to Cas' murder if he didn't do something. And it made it all the worse when Cas' eyes found his, when the angel didn't level blame upon him but conveyed apologies, as if Cas was at fault for this, any of this.

'No, it's all on me," Dean railed back in self-hatred, hoped Cas could read that objection in his eyes and could also sense that he had one more play to make, one more chance to right his wrongs. 'It's now or never. Do or die,' he recognized grimly, knew that what he did next, it might not even matter but he had to try, not for his own ego now but to give Cas a slim chance to survive, Benny too. So with quaking fingers, he finally managed to unscrew the vial's lid. Then, with a fervent prayer, he upended the small container and let the few ounces of Borax spill out onto the Leviathan's leg.

The Leviathan immediately howled in agony. Tossing Cas away to collide painfully with a tree trunk, he frantically scrubbed his hands at the acid like compound burning through his thigh. The Purgatory knife discarded on the ground.

'Get it! Get it! get it!' Dean screamed to himself but his small range of mobility ended with his hand six inches from the knife handle. Desolately, he realized that he would have to have the ability to lean off the tree to reach it, and right then, that was akin to him thinking he could jump the Grand Canyon. He was just too friggin' weak to override the toxins arresting his muscles.

Looking to Cas, who struggled with the last of his strength to try and push himself upright, to save them, to save him, Dean mournfully began to accept that he had been right, the Borax was a distraction not a saving grace, was buying Cas and Benny only another minute or two of life. But it wasn't going to save them, he wasn't going to save them.

SNSNSN~ Present ~SNSNSN

Sam can't help himself, interrupts his brother's story right there with an incredulous, "Wait, you carried Borax with you?!"

"The question isn't why I did..it's why you didn't," Dean counters with admonishment. "Come on, Sam, we were invading Sucrocorp, the Leviathans' Death Star, going after their Emperor and I'm not supposed to not have a Hail Mary in place," he passionately defends his decision before his face screws up into indignation. "And that's what you're getting out of the story? Out of my last pathetic act of defiance?!"

"It wasn't pathetic Dean," Sam stringently objects before he proudly assumes, "It saved you all.."

"No, no it didn't," Dean sullenly refutes, regret and guilt shining in his eyes.

"Well, you're not dead so it played a part in you being alive," Sam insists as he meets Dean's eyes, enforcing his unshakeable belief that his brother didn't do things half way, didn't give up, not when people he cared about were in danger.

Stunned and encouraged by Sam's faith in him, belief that his actions helped the bigger outcome, Dean swallows and resumes his story.

SSNSNSN~ Purgatory ~ SSNSNSNSN

It's in that moment of hopelessness that Dean saw Benny, weaponless but coming up behind the Leviathan at a full out run. Praying that Benny wasn't about to just foolishly hasten his own death, he watched the vampire tackle the Leviathan from behind, the collision sending them both slamming into the ground. Grappling for leverage, they rolled right. Benny got in a good right hook to the Levi's face before the Levi countered with a punch to Benny's torso that would have shattered a human's ribs.

Then they rolled left, right into Dean, unknowingly squished the human between them and the unyielding tree trunk. His breath squeezed out of him, Dean suddenly found profound meaning to being between a rock and a hard place, especially when Benny and the Levi shifted again, pinned him with more force to the tree. It made drawing in a full breath, nearly any breath impossible.

Some sixth sense had Dean, Benny and the Leviathan all looking up at the same time, to the angel suddenly standing over them, purgatory blade in hand. Benny trapped the Leviathan's arms between their bodies and held on tight, prayed that Cas didn't dilly dally.

Identifying his pending fate, the Leviathan yelled out an enraged "No!" as the blade descended.

Dean instinctively closed his eyes, felt the Levi's black goo blood splatter across his face, remembered getting a similar bath from Dick Roman, which teleported him to Purgatory. Dully he wondered if he'd wake up somewhere worse, and alone this go around. But Benny's concerned southern drawl erased at least that last fear, "You alright?"

Prying open his eyes, Dean was never so happy to see the forests of Purgatory than he was in that moment. Startled a bit when a hand tapped his cheek, he turned his attention to the hand's owner, swallowed and gave a hoarse, "yeah," to Benny's inquiry.

In unreserved relief, Cas sank to his knees, watched as Benny maneuvered the Levi's headless corpse off of himself and Dean and scrambled to sit up. Then the vampire scooted back until he was leaning against the tree trunk and his shoulder was reassuringly resting against Dean's. Knocking his boot into the human's, he asked, nodding to the small now empty vial Dean had discarded onto the ground, "What was in there?"

"Levi repellant," Dean smirked exhaustedly.

But Benny's eyebrows arched in surprised outrage. "You had that all this time and you never used it?"

"Was waiting for a rainy day," Dean shot back, watched Benny's anger turn to proud acceptance.

"Well, it was flooding today, brother."

"More like it was a hurricane," Cas countered, slumping back until his butt hit the forest floor in an undignified sprawl.

"What? You're saying you're not having fun, Cas?" Benny teased, a merry twinkle in his eyes. A beat later, Dean chuckled almost manically and Cas couldn't fight back a smile. Against all the odds thrown at them, they weren't dead, were even still together. And in Purgatory standards, that was an unaccountably awesome day.

SNSNSNSNSNSN

TBC

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Thanks for reading and reviewing.

The final chapter is coming up next!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.