Through the eyes of God

When Dean Winchester woke up, he thought the little visit with Bobby was just a dream. The smell of beer and the sound of birdsong was a far away heaven he could never reach again. He was lying flat on his back in a king bed in a little American somewhere motel. God had chosen to send him here. To forget everything he'd carried since Michael spirited him away.

For a moment, he thought he was alone. His body was cold. The moonlight from the deep night outside glanced over his face. His head ached and for a split second, so tired did he feel, that he thought he was back in Lisa's house. He thought he was lying here with the aching abyss of little brother's goodbye echoing like a gone shot through him. He drew a shaky breath. Unbeknownst to him, Cas was outside, waiting in the moonlight, testing the strength of his new wings in figure-eights beneath the stars.

Dean shuddered, feeling tears prick his eyes like razors. Even after the eons that he'd spent in Michael's forgotten Otherworld, there had never again been a pain like the punishment of Sam's good deed. He would never forgive himself, not after 10,000 years or ever, for not being able to save his little brother from the end of the Lucifer chapter of his long, drawn out story.

And then, he realized that there was someone else in the bed with him. For a moment, he thought it was Lisa. He wouldn't look at "her" because he felt a deep sense of guilt that he had made a home with her only to someday break it. He broke everything he touched. Of course, he always would. He was broken. His pieces were like saw blades. They would sever every tie he ever made. The darkness in his heart was like the bottom of the ocean. No amount of time…

Dean felt a soft breath like a puff of smoke rising from the hell scorching and to his nostrils. The body in the bed belonged to a man. And then, with a snapping realization, Dean saw that it was his brother beside him. His back was turned to him. With his shirt off, his skin shone in the moonlight, impressed by the same magic as the amulet to reveal the image of his soul. The scars of Lucifer's claws that had dug into his soul were illuminated in the jagged lashes that made his back look like a religious inquisition's aftermath. Dean was drowning here in the bed sheets, horror gripping his whole body. There was always something to remind him. Sam was here but part of him was gone.

It came back a little. The eons were fuzzy. God had put them behind a wall because the conscious mind couldn't handle that much history in a snapshot. But he had brought Sam and Dean back to the Universe they'd been made to protect. He'd left them in this motel. In this one bed so they'd not wake up separated after living so long with only each other as companions.

Dean reached out in the dark and let his fingers trace the scars. Studying Sam here in the moonlight, he realized his brother had been aged-forward from Bobby's heaven back to the age he was when they fell down Michael's rabbit hole. That made him around 36. Dean smiled thinking back to when they were that young the first time. For everybody else, no time had passed. For them, it had been so much longer than the math that Dean could do with a GED and a give em' Hell attitude…

Dean's fingers wandered Sam's shoulders like a piano's ivories spelling out sleep songs. They crept to his hair. The little brother didn't stir, so used to the elder's presence that he was. This teased a smile to Dean's lips that melted away some of the cobwebs of the legends he'd made in monster slaying folklore.

Sam was curled around a pillow, pressing it to his stomach. Dean could see under the sheets that he was wearing a pair of jeans that were stained by their long, long road's Millennia worth of dirt. Somehow God had pieced that ruined article of clothing back together, forgoing the ugly battle jumpsuit Sam had been forced to wear once they'd finally gotten out of Fairy World.

Dean let both of his hands wander to Sam's hair. He laughed at himself, remembering how he would have acted about waking up next to his brother in this kind of bed when they were young. How silly they acted about their appearances back then! Dean chuckled, making over him now like he was sculpting him out of memory.

Overwhelmed with the idea that they were both free now, Dean rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around his brother. Only now he realized that he was also only half dressed, with a God-restored pair of battle stained jeans on his lower half. He smiled, laying his face against Sam's neck, fanning his hair out on the pillow, sniffing back laughter at the ridiculous rooster's top shape he'd made with it. Sam stirred in his sleep a little, reaching up and taking Dean's hand in his. He went right back down into sleep, comforted by the trace of the elder's fingers. The shape of Mom's wedding ring restored to Dean's ring finger had Sam looping his index finger around that ring, rubbing against it with subconscious anxiety.

Dean smiled. They were back in their own world. That meant that Jack was probably still alive, probably still a kid. That Mom would be here. And Cas…

Sam woke up with a start, knocking the pillow off the bed. He rolled over in Dean's arms eyes wide. Scars from Lucifer's claws were illuminated in his chest and on his cheeks as well. The God amulet was hanging around his neck, shining bright like it did in God's presence, white like moonlight. His eyes wandered Dean's face for a moment, little terrified breaths coming in fast and then slow. A smile crept over his lips. And then, the scars began to melt away from sight. As if the love for Dean was pushing them back into the recesses of his soul, easing the pain in them almost upon visual contact.

Dean smiled wrapping the pendant around his fingers. Sam's eyes followed Dean's hand and he blinked a bit confused by wherever and whenever they were.

"Oh, good. You're awake,"said Chuck.

The Winchester brothers sat up. Chuck sat in a chair at the foot of their bed.

"You're probably wondering why I called this meeting." Chuck smiled.

Neither of the brothers spoke. They were too tired by all they'd seen in the Great Beyond. Dean fell back into the pillows, hand still tangled in the pendant at Sam's neck. Sam sat back on his haunches and tilted his head, watching God with sad and scared eyes.

"You should know that a lot of things about you have changed. But several things have stayed the same. You'll notice that the strength of your bond has become a God-relic..." Chuck smiled.

"English, Chuck, "Dean said at last.

Sam fell back into the pillows with a soft huff. His eyes opened wide when he realized that his scars were illuminated again.

"It's easier if I show you…"