Primary World: Part 8
"SAM!" Dean nearly shrieked as he bolted from the house, barely dodging a swing from his brother's arm that wound up splintering the front door. The night air was cold and bit into Dean's skin fast, luckily his blood was running hot and fast, his heart pounding feverishly. He skittered in the grass and spun around to see Sam's form standing stiffly in the entrance, his head tilted to the side with a sick smile taking over his mouth. "We can beat this, Sammy." Dean sputtered.
"Why did you leave? I thought you said you loved me? You need me?" Sam croaked, his few steps forward were somehow twisted, his tone of voice a mixture of apathy and seduction that Dean was far from comfortable with. "I guess I was wrong."
"Sam-" The words wouldn't come to him, not as he watched the way that thing distorted his brother. Sam's laugh, something Dean loved, came out so wrong, disgustingly vulgar and it nearly made him sick. 'Killing you can't be the only way.' He thought desperately, slowly backing away from Sam's ambling advance. "I can figure this out, give me some time." He couldn't think straight, not knowing that Castiel was out here, knowing that he intended to kill Sam and this would be the perfect time. He hadn't considered the fact that he was trying to bargain with a monster, though. All he could see was his little brother, and in that grotesque tone of voice he could hear Sam. Sam was still in there, he could feel it.
"Why did you leave me?" Sam repeated, starting to sound a little irritated, his eyes twitching as his hands lifted toward his head.
"I never left you, Sam." Dean protested immediately, "I'm right here, see? I'm right here, like always. I'll never leave you Sammy."
Sam pressed his hands to the sides of his skull and pushed, fingers digging into the brown hair and nails embedded into his skin. "Make it… stop… Make it stop!" He started to scream; it grew louder and louder like someone was twisting a knife in his brain.
Dean knew what was going on, the flood of memories was hitting it now, the monster was fully awake and Sam's presence was going to vanish from the surface. But that didn't mean he was gone, it just meant he was buried deeper and Dean would have to do some digging to get him out. "Sam, hang in there." He could feel his legs trembling, all of his muscles tight and anxiously waiting for something, anything to help him out. And at the same time fear coursed along with all the rest of his feelings; he was scared that he'd lose Sam, afraid that Sam would kill him, just generally scared of the entire situation. But he didn't run, he waited right where he stood.
Sam's screams stopped and his arms loosened on his head, blood trickling down his cheek and along his jaw from where he'd punctured the flesh with his nails. Like dead weights his arms fell to his sides, body swaying slightly as if testing his balance, feet shifting in the grass and adjusting. Every little movement was subtle and quiet; the flex of his hands, twitch of his shoulders or lifting of his chest was so smooth Dean would have thought it was Sam again. Except for the way he stared, something murderous in the bright eyes of his brother, dark and lurking there. It was sharp, that glare was strong enough to strike Dean's core and shake him until he knew the anxiety in his muscles was only fear. He was afraid of Sam, of what was in him.
The next moment was a blur, Dean inhaled sharply but it was cut short by a hand that gripped his windpipe shut. Sam had moved so quickly and suddenly that Dean barely had the chance to react. On a different day, in a different setting, he'd have anticipated Sam's actions and would have no problem with reaction time. But fear did funny things to the nervous system.
"Sam…" He wheezed, voice pinching into more of a pained whine as his eyes fluttered open and closed, unable to make up their mind. "Samm..y…" His hands were grasping at Sam's arms and weakening fast, he squeezed his brother's bicep loosely. All a failing attempt to get him to let go, to coax Sam out again. As the corners of his vision started to fade Dean could hear something muffled, he thought for a moment it was a shout for him, someone screaming his name. His head fell back as far as Sam would let it, mind jostled and losing its grip. It kind of sounded like Cas, if he concentrated.
In the transition from consciousness Dean was snapped back around, complete delirium shaking him up and causing more of a panicked flail than he'd meant. Sam's hands were off of him and he found himself lying in the grass, coughing and hacking to the point he thought he might puke. As much as he would have enjoyed remaining there and pretending none of this was happening, he had to get up, he forced himself onto his hands and knees again. Dean was barely able to get handle on himself before he felt someone else pulling him to his feet.
"Dean?" Jet's voice was the first thing he realized he'd heard. "Breathe, man, breathe."
"Sam." Dean groaned, "Where's Sam-" He stopped when he saw Castiel perched above his littler brother, a foot pressed down against Sam's chest and some strange looking gun aimed toward his head. "Don't you dare!" Dean shouted, scrambling away from Jet and bolting across the lawn.
Castiel's arm hesitated, his fingers stiff at the trigger. He was staring down at a monster that looked like Sam Winchester; something he'd never imagined doing or ever wanted. Sam was the beautiful young man who had all but brought Castiel to his Dean in the first place. A chance encounter in the market place led to a relationship that Cas would never change, even if that meant it ended the same way. "Goodbye, Sam." He whispered for the second time in his life, "I love you."
He could hear Dean, every frantic babbling sound that came from him, but he wasn't worried. Even if Dean ran into him he'd never have the strength to move him.
And just as he was about to pull the trigger he found out how wrong he was. Dean's fist connected with his jaw and sent him rocketing in the opposite direction. The shot rang out from his Pernach pistol but missed its target, crashing into the dirt next to Sam's head. Castiel lifted his hand to his face and looked up bewilderedly at Dean; no regular human could do that to him. "You finally woke up." He growled, shifting his weight onto his other hand and pushing himself up again.
"You!" Dean pointed at him, "Get away from my little broth-" He was cut short as Jet grabbed him by the back of the shirt and hurled him to the ground a few feet away. "Jet! What the hell man!?" He rolled over to see his best friend's hands holding tight to Sam's shoulders, legs braced and feet slowly digging into the lawn.
"Sam," Jet strained to keep his hold on the thing that he long understood wasn't Sam anymore, the strength of the monster slowly over powering him. "C'mon buddy, I know you're in there. Your brother's trying very hard to keep you safe, but you almost killed him." He'd locked into a solid staring contest with it, he could see every little difference the demoni made in Sam's gaze, the warmth gone and only a cold detachment left in its place. He could see hatred and even thought for a second he'd been able to make out the look of insanity. Although he couldn't quite see Sam in there, he believed Dean. "I know you don't want to kill him, Sam."
Dean slowly stood up, eyes shifting over to Castiel's location where the priest held his gun aimed at Sam but his gaze was firmly on Dean. While he didn't understand what Castiel was expecting, he didn't care as long as there would be no more shots fired at his little brother. Dean turned his attention back to Sam, watching the malicious intent settling here. The demoni in him would make him kill the people closest to him, the ones that Sam loved most; meaning Dean had been a pretty big target. He wasn't too surprised to see Jet was another one.
"You may want to help your friend." Castiel spat bitterly.
Dean frowned, what was he talking about? Jet was doing fantastically. Dean had barely been able to fight against Sam when he'd started strangling him, which was weird because Sam had never been stronger than him. But Jet was holding his own, sure he was slipping a little but it was giving Dean a second to figure the situation out. "Jet's got him," he answered quickly, wracking his brain for an answer.
"He can't do anything but hold on," Cas adjusted his combination gun and rolled his shoulders to get a kink out, "It's a matter of time before the demoni wins this skirmish."
While Dean was sure Castiel had more experience with these things he knew Jet and that guy could handle just about anything.
"I know you're thinking your best friend can do this, Dean. But get your head out of your own ass for a second and really look. Those things aren't weak; they easily knock a human aside with the swing of an arm. Are you really just going to stand there?"
"I need to save Sam, Jet gets that, it's why he's doing this." Dean would be lying if he said he didn't feel a bit of pressure at that moment. Cas wasn't wrong, Jet's body wouldn't hold out for him no matter how determined he was to help.
"I've got it but hurry up, man!" Jet called over, "He looks like he's slipping."
Worried now, Dean glanced over at Castiel's disturbingly still form. "How long does Sam have in there?"
"It depends on Sam." Cas shook his head, "But I'd wager an hour, maybe half."
"What!?" Dean shouted, just in time for Jet to give out, his legs buckling as Sam forced him to his knees. Dean snapped his head back and ran to his friend's aid for another failed attempt at a rescue. Sam caught him by the throat again but this time threw him across the yard and out of his way, turning attention back to Jet who struggled to stand again but couldn't with the monster's hand pressing him down, digging into his shoulder.
"If Sam's psyche is shaken too badly he'll give in faster. From what I know, once he's been completely over taken there's no saving him." Castiel explained solemnly, his hand steady on the trigger now, "And knowing Sam, if someone dies by his hand he'll be broken up about it."
"Of course he will!" Dean's raised voice was close to a roar as he charged again, his heart racing and beating erratically. He was about to watch his brother kill his friend, he was going to watch Sam lose himself and in turn be gone forever too. He couldn't lose them both.
The tension of the moment choked them and almost seemed to slow everything down to a crawl; Castiel's anxious swallow, Dean's scrambling steps in the grass, Sam's arm lifting and flexing back, and Jet, staring up to see it all and closing his eyes in waiting. The air was still and everything muffled into a silence in those last seconds, Castiel couldn't watch this, his eyes closing as well, blocking his mind from adding another image to his memory that he didn't want to see again. The silence all but exploded with Dean's screaming protest and Castiel had guessed what had happened, but the blinding light brightening the darkness of his eyelids told him he was wrong.
Looking up he could stare in amazement at the sight; Dean had managed to catch Sam in the act, tearing him down to the ground with a hand plastered to his chest, the other cupping his cheek. The light was erupting from both of their bodies; gleaming and making night look like day. "Sammy, I've got you," Dean's voice sounded broken, and it only took one second for Castiel to figure out why. Jet hadn't escaped the swing; he'd been knocked several feet away and was completely motionless. Cas couldn't make out any details of him from where he stood but his assumption was that it couldn't be pretty.
"Sam, it's okay." Dean's voice cracked as tears slipped from his eyes, dripping off his nose and onto Sam's shocked face. "I've got you, you're going to be okay." It was more of a prayer than a fact, Castiel noted, as Dean's hands glowed brighter. The light pushed through Sam's body, flowing through it entirely. It was mesmerizing to watch but it was hard to focus on the beauty of it, Cas was holding his breath and waiting for the result, to see if it worked. He'd never seen it done before so he really had no idea. As the glow was starting to settle it suddenly started to pulsate and gather, all of it into the same place. Cas' heart beat out of time, that wouldn't have happened if it wasn't working.
Dean's face lit up as the glow seemed to implode on itself, quickly focusing on Sam's face to see if there was any difference. The look of shock was still there, horrified and scared, but it was starting to relax. Hazy eyes blinked a few times before tears came to them, just a few at first but they started to rush out like they'd been held behind a dam. "Dean…" Sam squeaked, taking a shuddering breath, "What's going on? What did I do?"
"Sam," Dean laughed as relief washed over him, "Sammy you didn't do anything. It's okay now."
Castiel lowered his gun and turned away, his hand covering his mouth as he held back the pain in his chest. Sam was okay. Sam was alive. "Thank you." He whispered to no one in particular, just grateful for it to be true.
"Fuck…" Jet groaned, rolling over and startling the priest.
"He's not dead?" Cas asked incredulously, not realizing he was pointing too.
"No, m'not dead." Jet sat up and rubbed his head, "But damn it, Dean, had to kick me that hard?"
"Dude, you were stuck and about to die, what do you want from me?" Dean laughed as he lifted Sam up into his lap (as much of him that would anyway) and hugging him close.
"A medal." Jet muttered, "Of honour and glory, 'n shit."
Sam smiled through the tears, his head resting against Dean's chest as he listened to his heartbeat, a reminder that his big brother hadn't died because of him. "I'll make you one, Jet."
"Thanks Sam." He snickered, moving to look at the damage on his shoulder.
Castiel lifted the back of his coat and slipped his gun away inside, dropping the fabric and walking over to the deliriously happy threesome on the lawn. He couldn't help the smile on his face either, though, pushing up his cheeks and brightening his eyes as he knelt down next to Sam and Dean. "You're lucky, Sam." He said warmly, ignoring the way Dean tensed up at his presence. "To have someone like Dean around."
Sam looked up at his brother for a moment before returning his gaze to the priest, "Thanks, Cas. And… thank you for everything."
"Don't," Cas stood up again, "I would have killed you."
"I know." Sam smiled at him, an expression that nearly knocked him off his feet.
"Uh… guys?" Jet piped up again, his nervous tone catching their attention.
Castiel looked up to see the shadowy figure of the demoni hauling itself up from the grass. It looked injured but no less alive. "Oh… you just exorcised it." He mused.
"Is that…" Dean held tighter to Sam, his little brother's hands clinging a little harder right back.
"It is." Cas smirked and drew his pistol again, safety off and aimed at the thing's head. "It's weakened, lost its protective skin when it possessed your brother." He explained whilst casually approaching the thing. "Say goodnight, you son of a bitch."
Dean covered Sam's ears as the shot rang out, the younger Winchester bristling at the sound. The monster froze in place but didn't fall, its body twitched and flailed for a few seconds before it completely disintegrated. The particles taking flight in the air only to vanish entirely after a few words spoken by the priest.
"What the fuck…" Was all Jet managed to say from his spot on the lawn.
"Yeah." Dean agreed breathlessly, eyeing Castiel's back as he stowed his gun one more time. There were so many things that should have been asked at that point but all Dean could do was marvel at this man. Showed up in their town, spooked him, mooched off him, threatened Sam, and saved their lives. Despite already knowing a bit, Dean wanted to know more. Who was Castiel? And now that he'd saved them, what was he going to do?
Cas looked over at him as if reading his mind. His eyes flinched as if he'd just heard something stupid, he rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, "Get ready."
"For what?" Dean raised an eyebrow but his answer didn't come, instead he found himself flying. The ground vanished, Sam vanished, and all he knew was that the world around he spun in a way he didn't understand. Dean flailed and screamed unil he landed on his stomach with a profound 'oof'.
"Get up." Dean could see Castiel's boots standing just in front of him, the jacket he wore level with his ankles and nearly tickling Dean's nose.
"What happened? Where's Sam-"
"They're fine, probably just a bit freaked out." Cas interrupted, reaching down and hauling Dean to his feet. "Come on."
Dean frowned deeply and looked up at where Castiel was indicating. There, right in front of him was an enormous gate up a few short steps. "Where are we…"
"We've been summoned to meet with the Faith's servants."
"What?" Dean made a face, his tone somewhat annoyed and possibly sounded stupid to Castiel.
Cas rolled his eyes again, yep, definitely sounded stupid. "Many worlds have different names for it, yours, I believe, would call it Heaven."
"Say what?" Dean's jaw dropped as he stared up at the gates again.
"Shut up." Was the last reply Castiel gave him as he took to the stairs.
Author's Note:
Thanks for reading guys, spread the word if you like the story :) Please and thank you, of course ^_^