Thank you so much Jenjoremy for the fab beta job. Thank you Gredelina1 for all your help and support. And thank you all for reading this far. We're almost at the end of this particular journey now, and I'm grateful for you all sticking with me.
There is a plea for help at the bottom of the chapter so, if you're so inclined, read on after the chapter ending.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Unable to be in the cabin with Sam and Castiel but unwilling to leave them, Dean wandered through the trees around the place, eventually coming to a fallen tree. He sat down and buried his face in his hands. He wanted to roar out his pain, but Castiel would surely hear and come to interfere, leaving Sam alone. He couldn't have that. Sam needed care, even if it was from Castiel. Dean just needed space to feel the horror of what was happening without being watched and judged. He needed to work out what happened next.
The obvious thing to do was to make the same choice he had the night before. Take him and Sam out of the game and let them both have some peace finally. That was impossible with Castiel though. There was no way he'd leave them dead. He was arrogant and stupid enough to think he knew best. He'd never suffered the same way Sam and Dean were, so he didn't understand that sometimes to admit defeat and let go was the answer.
Without that avenue open to them, Dean had to think of other ways to cope. The priority was Sam, and the way he was now meant real care, not just emotional. He was going to have to take him back to Alfie and Elsie. They would live there together again. Dean would learn how to take care of this new version of Sam. With Alfie and Elsie there to help, he would be able to cope. He would make Sam's life as good as it could be. Though what quality there would be if he was unaware of what was happening around him now, he didn't know. Worse, what if it wasn't just that Sam had shut down? What if he was seeing Lucifer while he sat there, silent and motionless? How could he improve that even a little?
He shook his head as he thought of their future—Sam a shell and Dean his caretaker. How were they going to live like that? What kind of misery was he bringing down on Alfie and Elsie by making them a part of it?
There was no other choice though. He would send Castiel away. They didn't need him anymore; he had proved he couldn't help Sam through this. He could go to Annie and the others and help them. Bobby would get one thing he wanted at least. They could take care of Dick Roman, avenging him. He at least would be happy. Dean would be living his tormented life, his punishment for not saving Sam from Lucifer before it could go so wrong. There was no worse fate for him than to lose Sam, and he had now. He could perhaps have handled it if it didn't come at the cost of Sam's peace, too.
His plans made, Dean stood and walked back toward the cabin to put them into action. He would have Castiel take them to Oregon, his last favor before he disappeared. When Sam was settled, Dean would come back for the car. He would need that later.
He drew a breath before going into the cabin, preparing himself for what he was about to face.
Castiel must have heard him coming, as Dean was sure he wouldn't have spent the time he was away in silence, but no one was speaking a word when he went in, even though there was a third presence in the room now. Bobby was back.
"What do you think you're doing here?" Dean asked him.
Bobby raised his arms at his sides. "What I've been doing all along: helping."
"It wasn't the flask then?" Dean was disappointed. He would have to find whatever else it was Bobby was tethered to and get rid of it.
"Of course it was." He gestured to the table where his hip flask was. "I got it back."
Dean turned betrayed eyes on Castiel. "You went and got it for him?" He couldn't believe Castiel would do that. Didn't he realize how pissed Dean was at him already? Didn't he see that bringing Bobby back to them was another gross betrayal?
"No!" Castiel said defensively. "I haven't left Sam for a moment. Bobby did it himself."
Dean frowned. "How?"
"Freshwater lake," Bobby said smugly. "I went swimming."
"Great," Dean said sarcastically. "You can take it with you and disappear now. We don't need your kind of help, thanks."
"Of course you don't. You Winchesters don't need anyone's help. You do such a good job alone. Look how well you're doing right now. Sam's in the best of health and you're handling it all so well."
"Do you think that's helpful?" Castiel asked him irritably.
"Sam's like he is because of you!" Dean snarled. "You did this to him because of your damned need for revenge. You broke him."
"I know what you think," Bobby said. "And I'm trying to fix him now. I can see you're not going to be doing anything useful until he's taken care of, so I've got a plan. Face it, Dean; you need me. I am the only one with an idea of how to help him."
Dean threw himself down onto the couch beside his immobile brother and reached for his hand. He pinched the bed of his fingernail again, almost sure he would react this time, to prove Bobby wrong as he would know how much Dean needed him to. He didn't though, and Dean's heart sank all over again.
"That's not going to work, Dean," Bobby said. "He doesn't need more pain. He's already got enough of that."
"Shut up," Dean snapped.
"Are you really so damn stubborn that you won't hear me out? You and Cas are useless, and you know it. You've spent so long angsting over stuff that's already happened that you're not paying attention to what happens next."
Dean knew what happened next though. More of the same. He and Sam were going to continue to suffer without release because Castiel wouldn't cut them a break.
"You're not helping him," Bobby accused.
Dean's anger built. He had done nothing but try to help. He had wanted to curl up and give up after some of the blows he'd had lately, but he had fought for Sam. He hadn't given up. What had happened the night before didn't count as giving up either. It was admitting defeat and trying to end it as gently for Sam as he possibly could, to put him out of his misery. That was stolen from them now, so he was going to take care of his brother as best as he could.
"I have done everything," he growled.
"Then I guess we should give up now then," Bobby said. "If you've done everything. How long do you think it's going to take Sam to starve to death like this? No, hang on, he'll die of dehydration first won't he? I'm sure that's a peaceful way to go."
Dean's hands fisted. That it was Bobby saying these things made it so much worse. He was supposed to love them. How could he have become so twisted?
"Throw a punch if you like," Bobby said sarcastically. "It's so easy to hurt a ghost, after all. I don't see any salt rounds here, but you'll find a way. I'll wait here nice and patient for you to get it out of your system. Maybe you'll be ready to listen by the time I get back."
"I think we should listen to him, Dean," Castiel said quietly. "You and I are at a loss, and he seems to have some idea. It might work."
"Thank you, Cas," Bobby said gratefully. "Some sense at last. You listening now, Dean?"
"Fine. Say what you've got to say and leave. Just make sure you don't come back again."
Bobby shook his head, his expression frustrated. He recovered himself and said, "Sam is like this because of Jessica."
"No, he's like it because of you," Dean interrupted.
Bobby ignored him. "He thinks this, the real world, is fake and his memories real, that Jessica is waiting for him out there."
"Yes," Castiel said when Dean remained silent.
He wasn't ignoring Bobby. He was taking it all in and waiting for the solution so he could discredit it and get back to taking care of Sam. He wasn't discrediting it because it came from Bobby. It was the fact Bobby had proved he didn't have the first idea of what Sam needed that made him sure it was pointless.
"Basically, he's forgotten what happened to her," Bobby went on. "So what if we make him remember?" He looked at Castiel. "That's something you can do, right?"
"Yes," Castiel said thoughtfully. "I could bring the memories to the fore again." He turned to Dean. "I can make Sam remember her death, show him what happened from his own perspective."
"That could ruin him," Dean said. "This whole problem started when Bobby told him she was dead. What will happen to him if we make him see it all again?"
"Do you really think it could get worse?" Bobby asked.
Dean ignored him again. "It will hurt him, Castiel. We can't make him hurt again."
Castiel's lips pressed into a thin line as he considered. "I don't think he can hurt more," he said carefully. "But I do think this could work. If nothing else, it's worth trying."
Dean looked at Sam. The idea that he could come back was exhilarating, but the thought of making him go through that trauma again was abhorrent. Would he be able to handle it? He didn't think he could take that responsibility, not for Sam's mind. Though Bobby had a point. Could it really get worse?
"There is another option," Bobby said slyly.
"What?" Dean asked, no hostility in his voice now, just a need to hope.
"We take it all away," Bobby said. "We wipe it like Cas did Lisa and Ben. Take her out of his mind completely."
"Would that work?" Dean asked, looking at Castiel.
"In a way," Castiel said carefully. "I could take the experience of Jessica from his mind. There would be consequences though. It wouldn't just be Jessica that was lost."
Dean tensed. "What else?"
"Everything. Sam's experiences since Jessica are intrinsically linked with you, Dean. He started hunting again because of it. I would have to take every trace that could trigger him."
Dean froze. "Wipe me?" he whispered.
"Yes," Castiel said apologetically. "He would have to forget you completely. Hunting would be a risk to recollection, and you are hunting to him; his childhood is hunting. I can't actually wipe these things like a chalkboard. I have to bury them in his own mind. Too strong a recollection of before could bring them back to mind. You would be the strongest trigger, Dean. It would all have to go."
"Give him a blank slate," Bobby said, nodding.
"You can't think I'll let you do that," Dean said.
He couldn't be lost to Sam. They were their memories. A whole life forged together was not going to be stuffed away. Sam would have no sense of self. He would be an amnesiac drifting through life trying to find himself again. "He'd have nothing left."
"That's not quite true," Bobby said. "He could go live with that couple you were staying with. They'd help him build a new life. They were good people, and you know they wouldn't mind. Sam could be happy with them."
"He wouldn't have me though," Dean said.
"No, he wouldn't," Bobby agreed, "but he'd have a life."
"What about Lucifer?" Dean asked Castiel. "Can you wipe him, too?"
"No. I wish I could. I would have done it long ago if it would work. Sam's experience is such a deep part of him, I could never find it all. And even a scrap of memory left would open the others. It's just not possible."
"So you can wipe me, his own brother, but not that?"
Castiel looked apologetic. "Sam has only had you in his life thirty years. He had almost two centuries of the Cage and Lucifer."
Dean hated the idea that Lucifer had more of Sam's life than he could ever have. It was wrong. They were brothers. Their lives were together. Lucifer was a monster. How could he be more entrenched in Sam's mind than Dean?
"Think about it, Dean," Bobby said. "Sam can start a new life and you can get back to your old one. You can join the others taking down Dick Roman. You can save the world again. That's what you're best at. That's your mission."
"No," Dean said dully. "I am not a hunter first. I am a brother. My mission is Sam, and it has to stay that way. The others will take care of Dick. I will take care of Sam."
"The mission is the Leviathans!" Bobby said angrily. "It's more than Sam; it's the whole world."
"No," he said again. "The others will take care of it. The hell with the Leviathans and the fight. I have given too much to it already. I will not give Sam up again."
He couldn't. He had lost him to the Cage and that had ruined him. He would not do it again. He would stay at Sam's side and protect him, because that was what he needed to do. He was a brother first. He would not forget that again.
"Then what will you do?" Bobby asked. "If you don't care about the world, if Sam matters so much more, what are you going to do for him?"
Dean looked at Castiel. "You can make him remember it: Jess dying?"
"Yes. It would be easy. It's just bringing a memory to the fore."
Dean had to do it. This was the only chance he had to get Sam back and keep him. Anything else would be to lose him. Then a complication occurred to him. "What about Lucifer?" he asked. "Will messing with his memories shake him loose, too? Sam told us he was seeing through the cracks when he was first seeing Lucifer. If we do this, would it break down whatever little protection he has left?"
"He can handle it," Bobby said.
Dean glared at him. "You are the last person that should be talking about what Sam can and can't handle"
"It wouldn't happen anyway," Castiel said. "I will be reaching only for a fixed moment in time, Jessica's death. That is not linked to the Cage or Lucifer. It came before. Whatever minimal protection Sam has will remain intact."
"This will hurt him so much." Dean was talking to himself, but Bobby answered.
"So would shooting him, but you planned on doing that last night."
"That's enough, Bobby," Castiel said firmly.
Dean felt no gratitude for him intervention. He felt nothing but despair as he was faced with this impossible choice. Hurt Sam or lose him. How was he supposed to decide? He knew what he wanted, but that was about himself. What would Sam want?
"Dean, do you want to do this?" Castiel asked.
"I don't know," he said. "I need some advice."
"What do you think I've been giving you?" Bobby asked disparagingly.
"I need it from someone I trust," Dean said, glaring at him. "I'll come right back. You'll watch him, Cas?"
"Of course."
Dean patted Sam's shoulder then stood and picked up his phone from the table. He walked outside to the dock. He sat down on the chair he'd brought out for Sam and stared across the lake. His mind was reeling, and he needed something to ground him and help him make the choice. He needed a mother's advice, as he could only think as a brother, and that was a selfish love.
He dialed the number, relieved that it was Elsie that answered. "Hello?"
"It's me."
"Dean! Oh thank goodness. I was so worried. Alfie wouldn't say anything, but he's been like a cat on a hot tin roof since you spoke to him last night. He barely slept. Are you okay?"
"I'm getting there," Dean lied. He had never felt farther from okay in his life. "And it's you I need to speak to. I need help."
"Of course. Whatever you need. You know that. Tell me what's troubling you."
"There might be a way to help Sam. Actually, there's two. They both scare me, and I can't decide whether I'm being selfish or not."
"What are they?"
"Castiel can do something to wipe what's happened from Sam's memory. He wouldn't remember losing Jess, it would take it all away."
"That sounds perfect. What's the catch?"
"It would wipe me, too. He would never be able to remember me, not even a trace. I would never have existed to him. Nothing would. He would have no memories at all. He'd have to start from scratch."
"I see. And what's the other idea?"
"That we make him remember. He would have to know about Jess dying, see it all again, and feel it. It might break through what's happening to him now." He closed his eyes for a long moment. "He's even worse now, Elsie. He's catatonic. He doesn't talk, move or show any sign that he's there at all. It's like being with a breathing corpse. He gives nothing back."
He heard a shaky breath drawn and when she spoke Dean thought he could hear the tears in her voice. "I am so sorry."
"Yeah, me too."
"And the options are to hurt him or let him go?"
"Yes, and I don't know which to choose."
"Which do you want more?"
"I think you know," he said.
"You want Sam back. Of course you do. Who wouldn't? Do you think he can handle remembering? Would it heal or make him worse? Can you handle it?"
"I don't think it can get worse for me anymore. I don't know if it will help, and it will definitely hurt him; it might just make what he's feeling worse, even if we can't see it. I want him back though."
"Then I think your choice is made, Dean," she said gently. "You know whichever you choose, we will do anything we can for you both. If Sam has a clean slate, he will have a home here as long as we do. If he remembers but nothing changes, we will take care of him and you can stay or go as you need. Alfie will know what to do for him, and I will help as much as I can."
"I know you will," Dean said. "It just feels like too much responsibility for me to take on for his mind. I could make him suffer even more."
"You know, I read those books more times than I can count, and I then I had a chance to get to know the real you, too. One of the most important things I learned is that you are not afraid of responsibility. When it comes to Sam, you take the world on your shoulders. Why are you doubting yourself now?"
"I'm scared," Dean admitted. "I don't want to hurt him."
"If you could ask him, what do you think he would choose? Would he risk more hurt in order to save himself, or would he rather lose you?"
"I don't know."
"Yes, you do. I know, so you must. Sam would take pain for you. He would never want to let you go. You have to do what you can to keep him as that is what he would choose."
Dean breathed a sigh of relief as he realized she was right. His choice had already been made in his heart. It was his head that needed convincing. Sam wouldn't want to lose himself. He was a hero and he deserved to remember that.
"I'm doing it," he said, confident now. "I'll let him remember."
"Good. Go do it then. Don't make him suffer alone longer than he must. Call me as soon as you can and tell me how you are, but take time for Sam, too. He's going to need you, Dean."
"Thank you, Elsie."
"You are very welcome. Now go."
They exchanged quick goodbyes and Dean tucked the phone in his pocket as he stood. He walked quickly back into the house and went straight to Sam. There was no change in him but much in Dean. He was cautiously hopeful now.
"You've decided," Bobby stated.
Dean nodded. "I'm going to let him remember. I can't let him lose everything. He's a hero and he can't lose that to be an amnesiac searching for himself the rest of his life."
"Good," Bobby said, satisfied. "Get on with it then, Cas."
"Wait!" Dean held up a hand. He sat down beside Sam again and squeezed his hand in hopes of drawing his attention, even if there was no outward sign of it. "Sammy, Cas is going to do something for you now. It's going to hurt, but it might be better after." That was a partial lie. It would be better for Dean perhaps but not for Sam. He was going to suffer Jessica's death all over again. "It's going to help, Sam. I need you to be strong though. You've got through this before. You can do it again. Understand?" Sam gave no response, and Dean closed his eyes a moment to brace himself. When he felt strong enough, he opened his eyes and looked at Castiel. "Okay, do it."
Castiel didn't ask if he was sure, he didn't question at all; he just nodded and said, "I'll need space."
Dean stood up and walked a little back, close enough to reach Sam when he needed him, but far enough away to let Castiel work.
Castiel bent in front of Sam and laid his hand on his temple. He closed his eyes and concentrated as the light began to spill from his hand.
Dean watched nervously, waiting for a change, and then it came and he felt sick.
Sam's eyes widened and his expression morphed into tortured shock. "No!" he gasped. "No!" He brought up an arm as if shielding his face and cried out. "Jess! No! No!"
"I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean said, horrified but unable to look away as Sam relived the moment of his lover's death.
"Jess! Jess! No!" The words broke into a howl of pain and Dean flinched at the raw pain in him.
Castiel stepped back and said, "It's done."
It was done but it wasn't over. Sam was panting through his pain, his expression agonized. Dean wanted to reach for him, but he was afraid to move.
When Sam bowed over with his arms hugged around himself and began to sob, Dean rushed to his side and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. "It's okay," he soothed. "Just let it go, Sammy. You can do this."
Sam began to moan in pain and he shuddered under Dean's arm. Dean felt tears burning his own eyes, and when he blinked they slipped down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry, Sammy," he said. "I am so sorry."
Sam moaned and the sound made Dean's heart ache. "She's gone."
"She is," Dean said regretfully.
But Sam was back. His brother was broken by the pain of his loss, and his pain was Dean's, but a part of him couldn't help but be grateful. Sam had lost the woman he loved all over again, but Dean had his brother back. He didn't know what would happen next, but he was speaking again, feeling, and that was something he hadn't thought he'd have again.
Sam's moans tapered away, and he began to draw breaths through his nose as he tried to calm himself. Gradually, he settled and with a cough to clear his throat, he straightened up.
He looked terrible, wrecked still, but there was animation in his face, even if it was pain, that made Dean feel better.
"I'm sorry, Sammy," he said.
Sam shook his head. "It's okay."
It wasn't. It couldn't be. He couldn't be. He needed time to get over what happened. Dean would give him that time. He would do whatever he needed him to do.
"How do you feel?" Castiel asked.
Dean glared at him. It was a stupid question when you only had to look at him to see how he was feeling.
"Tired," Sam said. "Empty. You don't need to worry though. I'm really back. I remember now."
"Do you need anything?" Castiel asked.
"Sleep," Sam said. "I just need to sleep a while."
Bobby opened his mouth, but Dean glared at him, daring him to speak and get a salt round in the chest for it. Bobby seemed to see the message as he snapped his teeth together and glowered at Dean but didn't speak.
Sam stood up and walked to the stairs. His shoulders were slumped and his head bowed, and Dean hated to see him walk away like that. "I'll be right here, Sam, if you need me," he said.
Sam stopped with a hand on the rail and looked back at Dean. "I know. Thank you." He turned to encompass Bobby and Castiel in his words. "Thank you all."
That said he walked up the stairs to the first floor. Dean heard him moving across the hall and then the snap of a door closing.
"Thank you, Cas," he said, looking into his friend's shocked eyes. "You saved him."
"And I suppose I had no part in it," Bobby said grumpily.
"You had a big part," Dean said. "And I'm not thanking you for that."
He stood and picked up his phone from the table. He needed to put in a call to Elsie and Alfie. He had promised he would tell them what had happened, and he finally had good news to report. Sam was coming back to them. He was hurting perhaps worse than before now, but he was getting there. Given enough time, he would be back properly.
Then they would decide together what to do next.
So… Sam is back. It was a brutal scene to write and explore, but it was important to get what they were feeling clear in my head. I hope it came across on the page.
WANTED: I am need of a little assistance. Gredelina1 and I have always worked as a team for my stories. I would outline and she would guide/approve/rethink my ideas, and when I was done, she would listen to the chapter and give feedback. She's got far less time on her hands these days so I have been working alone. I am managing better than I thought I would alone, but I really do miss having someone to bounce ideas off of and the feedback for each complete chapter before I move on with the story. I was wondering if any of you would be interested in helping me out as a pre-reader. The job would basically entail you reading the chapters I send you and leaving feedback as an email or in the doc as comments. It would be a lot of work as I write fast (usually a few chapters a week at least) but it would be hugely appreciated. If any of you have some time and are interested in helping me out, drop me a PM and we can chat.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx